


Nine and A Half Months

by FaustusianSutcliff



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cravings, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mpreg, Parent!lock, Pregnant John, Protective Sherlock, Sherlock wants to be a father, medium build johnlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-04-21 14:12:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 31,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14286654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaustusianSutcliff/pseuds/FaustusianSutcliff
Summary: “John, we should have a baby.”John sputtered as tea spilled down the front of his jumper, as he startled from Sherlock’s question. He started at his flatmate turned close friend with equal parts shock and curiosity.Sherlock hardly glanced over from his current position of lying on his back, hands pressed together, fingers tucked under his chin. Face blank of emotion.“What?” John asked.“Do keep up John. I said that you and I should have a baby together,” Sherlock answered.Sherlock has come to the decision that he is ready to have a baby and wants John to co-parent with him. John has some doubts but agrees after Sherlock shows him how invested he is. As Sherlock and John prepare for their next adventure, parenthood, they find love along the way.(Previously titled: The One Where Sherlock and John Have A Baby Together)Update: In the process of being updated)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've actually been meaning to write this idea out ever since I fell back into the loving abyss that is Sherlock. This is actually partly inspired by a supernatural fic I had read multiple times and if anyone's interested in reading it please let me know and I'll post the link. 
> 
> Anywho, I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing it :)

“John, we should have a baby.” 

John sputtered as tea spilled down the front of his jumper, as he startled from Sherlock’s question. He started at his flatmate turned close friend with equal parts shock and curiosity. 

Sherlock hardly glanced over from his current position of lying on his back, hands pressed together, fingers tucked under his chin. Face blank of emotion. 

“What?” John asked. 

“Do keep up John. I said that you and I should have a baby together,” Sherlock answered. “You’re a carrier are you not?” 

“Well yes...but what does that have to do with the two of us having a child together?” John asked. 

“Well, obviously I’m neither biologically, nor physically capable of carrying or bearing a child,” Sherlock answered. “And you are. Is it really that hard a concept to grasp?” 

“It’s not that it’s hard Sherlock. It’s just...why do you want to have a baby?” John left out the  _ with me,  _ part. 

“I’m not getting younger, and my genes are far to superior to stop with just me,” Sherlock answered. “I’m smart, attractive.” 

“Clearly modest,” John snorted. 

“Yes. Precisely,” Sherlock agreed. 

John tried not to roll his eyes. “Why don’t you just hire a surrogate like your brother and Lestrade?” 

Sherlock gave John his ‘don’t be idiotic’ look. “While I’m sure that’s all well and good for them. I already know we’d have well above average looking children. Besides, I know that you want children and let’s be honest John, you’re biological clock is ticking. Given your track record with relationships, you’d be better off with artificial insemination. What’s that saying? Two birds with one stone?” 

John reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. “First of all Sherlock. It’s never a good idea comment on the age of the person you’re asking to have your offspring, secondly where is all of this coming from? You’ve been pretty adamant about your dislike of children,” John admitted. “Besides, wouldn’t it be a little...odd if the two of us had a child together?” 

“Some say you’re odd for living with me but it’s worked well for us,” Sherlock pointed out. “But as people have pointed out, my people skills are non-existent and I don’t have time to drag myself around, meeting people to find a suitable person when there’s already one living with me.” 

“Yes, but having a child with someone is different than just living with them Sherlock,” John told him. “And I’m flattered that you find me suitable.” John knew that was probably going to be one of the only compliments Sherlock would give during this conversation. “But if we have this child together, we’re going to be linked forever.” 

“So...If I’m reading between the lines correctly, you’re worried I won’t be reliable and that I would grow bored?” 

“I’m saying I know you, Sherlock. I know how you can be when it comes to certain things. A child is not a thing you can just stop paying attention to once you’ve gotten tired of it. They need constant care, and attention. They don’t follow a schedule. They will take precedence over everything in our lives Sherlock. That includes cases.”

 “I know that John,” Sherlock rolled his eyes. “And I am prepared for that.” 

“Are you?” John asked with a raised eyebrow. “Say Lestrade calls with a triple homicide. No murder weapon and no sign of forced entry. Then, let’s say you and I have this baby, and they get sick with the flu. Which is more important?” 

“The baby’s health obviously. I’m not stupid,” Sherlock scoffed. “Though I don’t think they’d need to go to the hospital with you as the other parent. I trust your medical opinion over anyone else.” 

“I’m not a pediatrician Sherlock,” John pointed out. 

“Do you not want to have a baby with me, John?” Sherlock asked. “I’ve no doubt you’d be an excellent parent.” 

“I will think about this if you do the same. I don’t know how long you’ve thought this through, but I want you to be absolutely sure you’re ready for this,” John told him. 

“No one is ever ready to have children,” Sherlock said matter of fact. “But, if it will make you happy then I will give this some more thought.” 

“Alright. Good, thank you. I’m going to go take a shower before my shift at work,” John told him. “And I mean it, Sherlock. Think about this, don’t pretend and come to me twenty minutes later and say you have.  I can not stress that enough.” 

“Yes yes,” Sherlock rolled his eyes. “I will think about this very huge life-changing decision.” 

“I could do without the sarcasm,” John told him as he turned and headed upstairs to his room.

* * *

 

John sat back in his chair after his last patient left the room and tapped his pen against the table. He thought back on his earlier conversation with Sherlock. In truth, Sherlock’s little spiel, while slightly insulting when it came to the age part, was structurally sound. 

He wasn’t getting any younger. His clock was ticking. He was still going to make Sherlock pay for that comment. 

John had always pictured himself settling down with someone, getting married and raising kids. But he deep down that if he  keep waiting for that person to come along then he won’t have any kids at all.  He’d also be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about what their kids would look like. Sherlock was an attractive man. And those curls. Any child with those curls would be adorable. 

But where would that put their friendship? What would happen if… John took a breath. He didn’t want to think about that. Despite a lot of people’s input, he really did cherish Sherlock as a close friend and he’d be disappointed if anything were to happen to it. 

John ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He already knew that if Sherlock was serious about this, he’d agree. He was honestly surprised he hadn’t asked Sherlock first given how many times the thought had crossed John’s mind. 

He chuckled at the thought that ran through his mind. Sherlock Holmes would potentially be his baby daddy. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I do John,” Sherlock answered earnestly. “And I would be in your debt forever if you did this with me. And as you know, I don’t like being in someone’s debt.”  
> “Yes, I’m quite familiar with that,” John chuckled. “People are going to talk.”  
> “They do little else,” Sherlock gave John a small smile. “Is that a yes?”  
> “Yes, you have successfully convinced me,” John nodded. “I will set an appointment with one of the doctors at the surgery to be on the safe side….You know...insemination is going to be expensive and there’s no guarantee it’s going happen on the first try.”  
> “Oh, I thought we might try it the old-fashioned way,” Sherlock said.

John yawned as he stumbled through the front door of their flat and all but collapsed face first onto the couch content to sleep for the next twenty-four hours. Preferably.

“Oh good, you’re home,” Sherlock greeted as he walked into the room. “We need to talk.”

“Sherlock, we didn’t get home until two in the morning the night before and I just got off of a sixteen-hour shift, with only three hours of sleep in total. You’ll forgive me if I don’t want to talk right this second,” John then let his face drop back onto the pillow.

“It’s about our previous conversation,” Sherlock continued. “You told me to think and I think two weeks is adequate time.”

John blinked and rolled over onto his side. “Convero...oh. Wow has it been two weeks already?”

“Yes John, do keep up,” Sherlock told him. “And I have my decision.”

“Alright. And…?” John asked. He sat up as Sherlock moved to join him on the couch.

“I understand your hesitation at having a child with me. You’re afraid it will do something to our relationship. And while, in the beginning, I admit I did employ the idea of using a surrogate and even asked Mycroft to compile a list of suitable options, but, I found that you are the only one I trust enough for this.”

“...You looked at my medical records didn’t you?” John asked with a chuckle.

“You’re very fertile, I have no doubt conception would happen on the first try,” Sherlock answered. “But, I did mean the previous things I said before. And I took into consideration a couple other reasons you might be hesitant.”

“Did you now?” John asked as he stood up.

Sherlock stood up and walked over to the dining room table and it was then John noticed the table was cleared of the usual beakers, questionable chemicals, and medical supplies.

“As you can see, I’ve taken the liberty of cleaning off the table. And,” he turned on his heel and made his way to the kitchen, “I’ve bought us a new fridge. “ He then opened the door. “I took the liberty of stocking it with food. And you can see, no heads, fingers, or various body parts.”

“You took the liberty?” John raised an eyebrow.

“Mrs. Hudson took the liberty, but I facilitated,” Sherlock answered. “Moving on.”

He walked down the short hall to his room and stood in the doorway while he waited for John. John watched as Sherlock went to each of the hiding places in his room where he was known to keep certain substances and showed John they were indeed empty.

“Sherlock, why are you showing me your empty hiding places?” John asked confused. “Though I’m glad they’re empty.”

“Ahem right...well I thought, I’d like you to know that they’re empty and I plan to keep them empty because as we will be sharing custody of the baby when they are born…” he stepped a little to the side and John spotted the unopened box with a diagram of a crib on the front, “they can sleep with me some nights. Though I read it’s alright for baby’s to sleep in bed with the parents and seeing as I don’t usually sleep that can also be accommodated, but I thought you may be comfortable with a crib.”

John looked between the box and his flatmate. “Sherlock…”

“You’re making that face again. Did I do something wrong?” Sherlock asked. “Would you prefer a bassinet instead? I’m sure we could find one.”

“No Sherlock. That’s, really thoughtful. Might be a bit difficult though when it comes to late night feedings though,” John chuckled.

“Oh...right…” Sherlock frowned a little.

John smiled. “You really want to do this Sherlock?”

“I do John,” Sherlock answered earnestly. “And I would be in your debt forever if you did this with me. And as you know, I don’t like being in someone’s debt.”

“Yes, I’m quite familiar with that,” John chuckled. “People are going to talk.”

“They do little else,” Sherlock gave John a small smile. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes, you have successfully convinced me,” John nodded. “I will set an appointment with one of the doctors at the surgery to be on the safe side….You know...insemination is going to be expensive and there’s no guarantee it’s going  happen on the first try.”

“Oh, I thought we might try it the old-fashioned way,” Sherlock said. “The chances of a successful conception are greater. I already took the liberty of seeing a doctor. Given my past addictions and the few injuries I’ve sustained during our cases, I thought you might like to know I was clean. You can, of course, review this all yourself. I’ve also started taking vitamins to increases sperm potency and-”

“Woah, Woah hold on now,” John interrupted. “You want to do this the natural way? As in sex?”

“Yes. That is what I said,” Sherlock answered. “If you’re worried, I already know we’re going to be sexually compatible. Honestly, all you need to do is just lie there and I’ll do all the work if you’re so worried.”

John barely contained a snort of laughter.

“That’s all well and good, but pregnancy doesn’t just happen the first time you have unprotected sex. We may have to have sex more than once,” John told him.

“I know,” Sherlock nodded.

“And you’re fine with that?” John asked.

“Good God man, you sound like Mycroft,” Sherlock answered. “I am prepared to have sex multiple times John. It’s more reliable than an insemination, and-”

“I don’t need the lecture, Sherlock,” John interrupted. “I understand your point.”

“That doesn’t make you uncomfortable does it?” Sherlock asked. “If you’re worried about physical attraction…”

“No, Sherlock I’m not worried about that,” John answered. “Just,” he cleared his throat, “you’ve put a lot of thought into...all of this.”

“Well of course,” Sherlock told him. “You told me to give this serious thought and I have.”

“I’m not saying you haven’t,” John replied. He reached up to massage his temples. “I need to get some sleep before this conversation can go any further. Right. I’m going to take a nap and we can finish this later alright? Alright.”

John turned on his heel and walked upstairs to his bedroom and proceeded to sleep for the next eight hours.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John had an overwhelming feeling of deja vu as he stared at Sherlock.   
> “What do you mean you canceled my appointment for this afternoon…? Have you suddenly changed your mind?” John asked carefully. 
> 
> Sherlock rolled his eyes. “No John, I haven’t changed my mind about having a baby after three days. I canceled your appointment because I found a better doctor.” 
> 
> “There’s nothing wrong with Dr. Green,” John protested. “Every one of his patients had nothing but good things to say about him.” 
> 
> “Yes well, I found a better doctor,” Sherlock repeated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to mention before, I don't own the character's sadly. This is also obviously slight AU.

John had a feeling of deja vu as he stared at Sherlock. 

“What do you mean you canceled my appointment for this afternoon…? Have you suddenly changed your mind?” John asked carefully. 

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “No John, I haven’t changed my mind about having a baby after three days. I canceled your appointment because I found a better doctor.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with Dr. Green,” John protested. “Every one of his patients had nothing but good things to say about him.” 

“Yes well, I found a better doctor,” Sherlock repeated. 

John picked up his tea. “Fine then. Who’s this doctor you found?” 

“Dr. Wright,” Sherlock answered. 

“...Wasn’t that Mycroft and Lestrade’s doctor?” John asked. 

“Yes. Mycroft pulled a few strings and we’ve got an appointment for this afternoon at one. I even told Lestrade that I wouldn’t be able to take any cases until after the appointment is finished.  Including anything above an eight.” 

John raised an eyebrow. “An eight? I thought it was a seven.” 

“We’re going to be conceiving a baby John. Lestrade is perfectly capable of handling a level seven case. I’m not so sure about the rest of Scotland Yard,” Sherlock told him. “And if need be, I can have Lestrade text me pictures of the crime scene. I’ve done it before.” 

John made a noise of agreement and focused on finishing his breakfast. “Speaking of Lestrade. I would prefer if we didn’t tell people that you and I are...trying to have a baby. Not yet anyway. Not including Mycroft and Lestrade.” 

“I completely agree,” Sherlock nodded. “I was thinking once we’ve passed the three month period?” 

“I was going to say the same thing,” John said as he picked up his tea. “I also think it might be best if, I didn’t accompany you to every case, at least the parts where we might get shot at, or jumped, or attacked really.” 

“Oh…” Sherlock frowned a little. “I suppose you’re right about that…” 

“Might be a good idea for you to get some proper shooting lessons as well,” John added. “Wouldn’t hurt.” 

“I know how to shoot a gun John,” Sherlock rolled his eyes. 

“I know you know how to shoot Sherlock. But there’s more to it than just shooting,” John told him. “Besides, it wouldn’t hurt for you to get properly certified.” 

“So you really won’t come on any more cases?” Sherlock asked instead. 

“I’ll still come on cases, Sherlock. I can still help examine the body, I just won’t be able to do to the more dangerous bits,” John said. 

“Right...right,” Sherlock nodded. “I knew that…” 

“You mind cleaning up here? I want to take a shower before we go and see Dr. Wright,” John said as he got up. 

“Yes, yes of course,” Sherlock waved him off and John disappeared down the hall to the bathroom.

* * *

 

“Stop fidgeting John,” Sherlock said. “You have nothing to be nervous about.” 

“I’m not nervous Sherlock,” John crossed his arms over his chest. “How did Mycroft even pull the right strings to get us an appointment? How can we even afford her?” 

“Mycroft is paying. He said it’s his gift to us,” Sherlock answered. 

“So that isn’t the case he mentioned a couple weeks ago that you called borrowing, you’re scrolling through on your phone?” John asked. 

“Course not,” Sherlock answered. 

John chuckled and took another look around the waiting room. He knew he was doing a terrible job of not being nervous. He wasn’t nervous about seeing Dr. Wright. She was an amazing doctor, Mycroft and Lestrade adored her. He was nervous because he was going to be having a baby with Sherlock Bloody Holmes. 

Sherlock was, weirdly energized at the whole prospect of impending fatherhood. Over the past couple of days, since John had agreed, there'd been a noticeable change in his attitude. He even remembered to pick up milk. Milk!

“Mr. Watson? Dr. Wright is ready to see you now,” the nurse told him with a kind smile. 

“Right, you coming Sherlock?” John asked as he stood up. 

Sherlock nodded and slipped his phone into his pocket as he stood. John tried not to react when Sherlock placed his hand on the small of his back as they walked down the short hall and into an exam room. 

“Go ahead and change into the gown and Dr. Wright will be with you shortly,” she told John. 

She shut the door behind her as she stepped out and John turned to pick up the hospital gown. Sherlock did a small lap around the room and examined the medical equipment while John changed. He sat on the exam chair and leaned back. 

“Ah, good afternoon Mr. Watson, and Mr. Holmes the younger,” Dr. Wright greeted as she stepped into the room. “Your brother tells me the two of you would like to have a baby.” 

"That’s correct,” Sherlock answered. 

“Will you be trying naturally or will we doing insemination?” She asked as she shut the door. 

“Naturally,” John answered. “I thought it best given, some certain things it’d be a good idea for an exam before we start.” 

“Never hurts to be careful,” she said as she washed her hands. She dried them off and pulled on a pair of gloves. “Now, just relax and we’ll get this over with.” 

 

“Alright, now,” Dr. Wright said as she sat behind her desk. “Everything looks very good. I have no doubt you’ll conceive Dr. Watson.” 

“Please, call me John. After all, you just spent an entire hour giving me a very thorough exam,” he told her. 

She smiled sympathetically. “If you prefer I could refer you to another doctor.” 

“No, no,” John shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’m just a bit nervous. Sherlock didn’t mention you’d be our doctor until this morning before the appointment.” 

She nodded in understanding. “And it’s all a little unnerving.” 

“Just a bit,” he chuckled. 

“Well, I can assure you, I will do my best to make you as comfortable as possible,” she told him. “And speaking of Mr. Holmes, there are a few things I would like to discuss with him concerning his medical history.” 

“Right,” John nodded and stood up. He stepped out into the hall where Sherlock was pacing the floors speaking in a low tone on the phone. “Sherlock?” 

The detective pivoted on his heel. 

“Dr. Wright would like to talk to you,” he told him. 

“I will call you back,” Sherlock hung up and put the phone back into his pocket as he followed John back into the office. 

“I assume everything’s alright?” Sherlock asked as he sat down. 

“John’s in perfect condition for conception,” Dr. Wright answered. “Though there are a few things I noticed when looking through your medical history Mr. Holmes.” 

“Sherlock, if we are to be on a first name basis,” Sherlock told her with a polite smile. 

“Of course,” she nodded. “Now, it is my understanding that you have been clean for nearly two years now?” 

“That’s correct yes,” Sherlock answered. “I was told that shouldn’t affect anything.” 

“In some cases, it can result in a lower fertility rate, given your past substance problems it wouldn’t be uncommon, but your last checkup shows that it shouldn’t be an issue,” she assured him. “However, should there be any problems we can run a few more tests. Any questions?” 

“I think we’re alright. Sherlock?” John glanced over at the detective. 

“This means we can start trying right?” Sherlock asked. 

Dr. Wright smiled. “That’s correct.” 

“Excellent.” 

John smiled a bit at the small hint of enthusiasm in Sherlock’s voice. He thanked Dr. Wright before they left and signed out while Sherlock got them a cab. 

“So,” John cleared his throat as they sat in the back of the cab, “how’s the case coming?” 

“If you’re worried about the prospect of us having sex tonight, I can assure you I respect your boundaries enough to wait for you to feel comfortable again following the exam,” Sherlock told him. 

“Oh thank God,” John released the breath he’d been holding and sank back against the seats. 

Sherlock glanced over with a raised eyebrow. 

“Oh don’t look at me like that,” John said as he sat up. “You’d feel the same way after an exam like that. And next time, please stand near my head.” 

“What’s wrong with where I was standing?” Sherlock frowned. 

“Everything,” John deadpanned. 

“John, everything discussed in there was perfectly normal,” Sherlock told him. 

“There are certain things about my body that you don’t need to familiarize yourself with Sherlock,” John said in a low tone. 

“I apologize, John, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Sherlock told him. “If it should happen again, please let me know.” 

“Why are you being so accommodating?” John asked. 

“What are you talking about?” Sherlock scoffed. 

“You’ve been weirdly accommodating the past couple of days,” John answered. “You remembered to get milk when I asked. This morning when I told you I wouldn’t be able to go on cases with you-you didn’t sulk like usual and you’ve been putting your phone away when something requires your attention. That is very out of character for you.” 

“Stress isn’t good for you,” Sherlock answered. “And I know that a great cause of stress in your life can...be...myself.” 

“You’re not wrong,” John chuckled. “But if I’m being honest, I prefer the old Sherlock to this new accommodating one. Having him around would make me less nervous.” 

“...Are you sure?” Sherlock asked. 

“I’m sure,” John answered. 

Sherlock paid the cab once they arrived back home and John headed straight for a shower. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

He'd be having sex with Sherlock. Not right that second, thankfully, but sometime within the next couple of days and admittedly John had entertained the idea once or twice. Those fingers skirting the insides of his thighs. 

Would they face each other? Sherlock's eyes watching everything. Cataloging. 

John bit his lip. He'd get to see Sherlock naked too. Touch that pale skin. Those curls. John just wanted to bury his fingers in those dark curls. 

He was going to have sex with Sherlock Holmes. 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two men shifted around in the bed, Sherlock sprawled on top of John, the doctor lying flat on his back to look up at the ceiling. 
> 
> “How do you get your hair to curl like this?” John asked. He twisted a couple locks around his fingers and gave a small tug. 
> 
> “Nothing,” Sherlock turned slightly to get a better look at him. 
> 
> “You’re lying…” John frowned. His cheeks were flushed from the alcohol.  
> “M’not,” Sherlock shook his head. “I use nothing.” He flung his arms out in an attempt at overdramatics and knocked the bottle of wine over. He blinked and watched the red liquid seeping out onto the sheets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad you are all enjoying this fic. This chapter kinda got away from me, but I couldn't resist the drunk sex cliche. Enjoy!
> 
> As always, kudos and reviews are a delight :)

**Chapter 4:**

 

Sherlock plucked the strings of his violin as he waited for John to finish up in the bathroom and paced the floor. It’d been nearly two months since they had started trying for a baby with no results. Sherlock didn’t understand why it was taking them so long. They were doing everything Dr. Wright had instructed. Sherlock was still taking the vitamins. They had sex regularly enough that John should’ve gotten pregnant by this point.

“It’s another negative, and we’re going to need more tests,” John sighed as he walked out of the bathroom.

“I don’t understand,” Sherlock frowned as he turned to face John. “You should be pregnant by now.”

“It’s not going to happen straight away, Sherlock. We talked about this,” John told him as he walked over. “We can try again later. I’ve got to head off to the surgery. I’ll pick up some more tests on my way back home.”

Sherlock walked over to his sheet music and shifted through the papers before finding what he was looking for and picked up the bow.

He knew it wasn’t that uncommon to conceive on the first try, but as each test came back negative he found himself getting more and more disappointed. John was putting on a brave face, but Sherlock could see the dejected look in his eyes each time he told Sherlock the results. 

He paused and set his violin aside as he picked up his phone and sent John a quick test.

_Dinner? -SH_

_Takeaway? - JW_

_Angelo’s -SH_

Sherlock stared at the screen as he waited for a response.

_Sounds great. I’ll be finished here at 5, so 5:30? -JW_

Sherlock found himself smiling as he sent off his text.

_I’ll make sure the table has a candle -SH_

 

“Sorry, sorry I know I’m late,” John apologized as he sat down across from Sherlock. “There was a bit of an incident at the surgery and some people are not meant to be doctors.”

Sherlock chuckled a little as he closed the cold case he’d been reviewing. “Quite alright. I went ahead and ordered us a bottle of wine to enjoy with dinner, and we should be getting an order of garlic bread in a few moments.”

“Excellent, I’m starving,” John sighed as he glanced over the menu. “Are you disappointed?”

“Hmm?” Sherlock asked.

“Disappointed. The only texts I received from you today were about dinner and one text asking about your cigarettes,” John answered.

“I know it takes awhile,” Sherlock waved his hand dismissively as their waiter brought over a basket of garlic bread. “I’ve nothing to be disappointed about. Wine?”

He didn’t wait for a response as he poured them each a glass.

“Sherlock... “ John was using his ‘You can't-fool me’ voice.

“Is it me?” Sherlock finally asked. He twisted the glass of wine between his fingers.  _My addiction..._ he thought bitterly. 

“Of course it’s not you Sherlock,” John reached over and took his hand. “So it takes us a little longer, it’s going to happen. It’s normal. Plus, how many people can say that get to shag the great Sherlock Holmes.”

Sherlock chuckled a bit as John let go of his hand to pick up his glass of wine.

“How about a toast?” John offered as he tilted his glass towards Sherlocks.

“What do we have to toast to?” Sherlock frowned.

“Seventh times the charm?” John asked with a smile.

Sherlock smiled a bit and they tapped their glasses. “Seventh times the charm.”

* * *

 

"Shhhh,” John pressed a finger to his lips as they tried, and failed, to quietly make their way up the stairs to their flat. He was gripping the banister with one hand, the other holding the bottle of wine they’d brought home with them.

A gift from Angelo.

“Mrs. Hudsonson,” Sherlock wrinkled his nose, “Mrs. Hudson drinks brandy before bed. She’s not gonna wake up.” He waved his hand dismissively and latched onto the banister when the motion almost caused him to fall back.

John snickered. “C’mon.” He grabbed Sherlock’s free hand and tugged the detective up the stairs after him.

“John. Wait.” Sherlock braced his hands on either side of the doorway.

John waited.

“...I forgot…” Sherlock frowned and dropped his arms. “Iss gone.”

“More wine?” John held up the bottle.

“Yes!” Sherlock pointed at the bottle.

“Shhhhh,” John shushed him again and made his way to the kitchen.

Sherlock barely remembered to shut the door and struggled to remove his coat, leaving it on the floor. He swayed a little once the coat was removed and before he followed after John. The bottle of wine was standing open on the counter, with John frowning at the lack of cups in their cupboards.

“We shall improvise,” Sherlock said as he picked up the bottle and proceeded to take a long drink. He offered it to John once they finished and pulled it just out of the other’s man reach.

“Share you prat,” John frowned and reached for it again.

Sherlock smiled innocently and twisted out his way. He brought the bottle to his lips as he began walking back towards his room.

John managed to reach out and grab the sleeve of his suit jacket and pull him back just enough to grab the bottle from his hands.

“Give it back,” Sherlock pouted.

“Make me,” John teased as he slipped around Sherlock and made a run for it.

Sherlock went after him and the two half stumbled half crashed into the detective's bedroom. He pounced sending them both falling onto the bed. The bottle of wine fell with them and John twisted to try and stop the flow of liquid. Sherlock grunted as he was nearly elbowed in the face and waited for John to balance the bottle against the headboard. Sherlock pressed his face against the column of John’s throat and breathed in his scent. Antiseptic, and earl grey tea. John's fingers were in his hair a second later. 

“How do you get your hair to curl like this?” John asked. He twisted a couple locks around his fingers and gave a small tug.

“Nothing,” Sherlock turned slightly to get a better look at him.

“You’re lying…” John frowned. His cheeks were flushed from the alcohol.

“M’not,” Sherlock shook his head. “I use nothing.”

He flung his arms out and knocked the bottle of wine over. He blinked and watched the red liquid seeping out onto the sheets. John quickly righted the bottle and leaned over Sherlock to place it on the nightstand.

Sherlock watched the muscles in his stomach tense a little and tried to imagine what’d it could look like in a few months time when the skin was pulled taut and swelled. He looked up to study the man’s face. His tongue stuck out slightly as he balanced on the bed with his left hand while the right tried to keep the bottle from falling to the floor.

He let go once he was sure it wasn’t going to fall to the floor, Sherlock wouldn’t have minded. The wine was not the worst thing to stain his floor.

Sherlock reached up brushed his fingers along John’s cheek and let his hand rest there. John’s cheeks were relatively smooth to the touch. He hardly ever grew facial hair.

“What’re you doing?” John asked after a moment.

“You said yes,” Sherlock answered.

John blinked and looked at Sherlock confused as the man started to move around. Sherlock shoved the bunched sheets to the edge of the bed as he climbed on top of John. He braced his hands on either side of John’s head making the other man look up at him. John spread his legs, his cheeks redder as one of Sherlock’s knees came to rest between his thighs, not quite touching his crotch.

“You said yes.” He repeated more insistently.

John blushed and shifted a little as he looked at the other’s man face. Sherlock leaned down and pressed their lips together in a kiss.

He let out a soft sigh as John started to react and reached up to curl his fingers in Sherlock’s hair. Not pulling. Just holding. Sherlock loathed to pull away but they were still wearing too many clothes.

He tugged at John’s jumper until the soft fabric was off and tossed into some random direction of the room. John worked on the shirt he’d worn underneath off while Sherlock attempted to get his suit coat. After a minute he let out a frustrated huff and pulled. He ignored the little ‘clinks’ as buttons landed on the floor in different directions. The jacket was tossed, his shirt followed a second later. 

John swallowed thickly and Sherlock smirked. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of his briefs and in by inch tugged them off. 

John let out a soft gasp and bit his lip as he looked at Sherlock through hooded eyes. Sherlock reached under one of the pillows from the bottle of lube still left there from their last session.

“Off.” He pulled the waistband of John’s briefs and let it snap against his skin with his free hand.

John wasted no time in removing the last article of clothing between them. His cheeks tinged pink again as he spread his legs.

 _You said yes..._ John said yes. John said yes to him. John agreed to have his baby. Their baby. Their perfect baby. With-

“Your curls,” John murmured softly.

Oh, he’d said that part out loud.

“Your smile,” Sherlock replied in response. 

He shifted between John’s legs. Rubbed the cold gel between his fingers to warm it up.

_You said yes._

Sherlock remembered their first time. It was nothing more than awkward fumbling, a clash of teeth and tangled limbs. John was so nervous he’d prepped himself in the shower beforehand but now. Sherlock, admittedly, didn’t last as long as he planned. Too much energy. Too much excitement. Now. Now-

John moaned softly at the first finger. He fingers tightened in Sherlock’s hair at the second. He bit his lip, clenched around the fingers as Sherlock began a slow thrust.

 _You said yes._ Sherlock repeated the three words in his head like a mantra.

“Sher…Sherlock,” John moaned.

Sherlock carefully pulled his fingers out and poured more lube into his hand and hissed a little as the cold touched his skin. He braced one hand on the side of John’s head using the other to guide himself to John’s entrance.

_You said yes._

He pressed his forehead against John’s shoulder and kissed the skin there as he eased in.

“You said yes…” He whispered into his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P. S. Smut is not my forte lol


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He sent a quick text to Mycroft, and five minutes later Sherlock was helping John into a sleek black car. 
> 
> “M’cold…” John leaned heavily against Sherlock as his eyes fluttered. 
> 
> Sherlock wrapped his scarf around John’s neck and tucked it into the coat. “I know, but we need to keep you cool. Can’t have you overheating. Bit not good right?”
> 
> John chuckled tired and nodded. “Bit not good…”

**Chapter 5:**

 

Sherlock frowned as he listened to John exit the bathroom for the fourth time that night and sat up from his spot on the couch.

“John?”

He waited a moment for a response.

“I’m fine Sherlock,” John called back. “Too much water at dinner that’s all.”

Sherlock thought back earlier that evening and this time stood up. He walked out into the hall catching John just as he was about to go back upstairs. “You didn’t eat dinner. Or lunch for that matter.”

“It’s nothing Sherlock. I’m just not hungry,” John sighed. “Can I go back to-”

“Why aren’t you wearing barely any clothes? It’s freezing outside.” He stepped closer.

“I was feeling a bit hot in my-”

“Don’t lie John, you’re not even trying,” Sherlock interrupted. He reached up and pressed a hand to John’s forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“I took some medicine while I was in the bathroom. Sherlock I’m a doctor I know how to take care of myself. I’d like to go back to bed,” John sighed.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes a fraction but dropped his hand. “If you’re sure.”

“Thank you. Goodnight,” John climbed the stairs up to his room and the door shut with a soft click.

Sherlock turned and walked back to the sitting room. He picked up the stack of paper he’d left on the coffee table and picked up his pen resuming the composition he’d been working on earlier that evening.

* * *

“John...phone,” Sherlock mumbled into the couch cushion. He used another to cover his head as it continued to ring.

He hauled himself to his feet and started looking for the still ringing device. He got closer to John’s coat and looked through both pockets until he got the phone and pulled it out. He recognized the number of the surgery and went upstairs.

“John, surgeries calling,” he knocked on the door and waited for an answer. “John?” He knocked a second time and frowned when there was no answer.

He stepped into the room and found John still asleep in bed with the sheets bunched up around the foot of the bed. Sherlock set the phone on John’s dresser and walked over to the bed.

John’s cheeks were flushed a dark red, and his breathing was a little labored. Sherlock pressed his hand against John’s forehead and cheeks.

“John.” Sherlock kept his voice firm but slightly softer in an attempt to wake the doctor.

John’s eyes fluttered this time. They were unfocused and had a glassy hue as they attempted to look at Sherlock.

“John, I think you need to see a doctor,” Sherlock sat on the edge of the bed.

“I’m a doctor,” John shivered.

“I think you need to see another doctor,” Sherlock replied.

John shivered again and leaned into Sherlock’s hand still resting on his cheek. “...Think you’re right.”

Sherlock bit back a retort and helped John into sitting position. He grabbed one of John’s other jacket’s hanging in his closet and helped him into it before grabbing shoes and helping John into those.

He sent a quick text to Mycroft, and five minutes later Sherlock was helping John into a sleek black car.

“M’cold…” John leaned heavily against Sherlock as his eyes fluttered.

Sherlock wrapped his scarf around John’s neck and tucked it into the coat. “I know, but we need to keep you cool. Can’t have you overheating. Bit not good right?”

John chuckled tired and nodded. “Bit not good…”

Sherlock helped John out of the car as it pulled to a stop in front of the hospital and kept his arms wrapped around him as they walked inside. A nurse was already waiting for them, and Sherlock made a mental note to thank Mycroft.

He felt helpless waiting for the doctor’s to finish getting John hooked up to various medical equipment. He could only watch through the glass window as they slowly brought his fever down. He should’ve made John come in sooner.

What felt like hours, perhaps a half hour at most, passed before Sherlock was finally admitted into the room. He was by John’s side in an instant slipping a clammy hand into his own.

He kept his eyes focused on John as the doctor walked over with a chart in his hands.

“It’s a good thing that you brought your partner in when you did,” the doctor told him. “Any longer and there might’ve been complications with his pregnancy.”

Sherlock looked up sharply. “What?”

“Your partner,” the doctor looked back down at the chart, “our test show he’s a few weeks along...Do you have any idea what might have made him sick?”

Sherlock swallowed as he thought back to the last case. “He’s a GP at a local surgery.” He said instead. “Could he have caught it there?”

“It’s possible,” the doctor nodded. “We’ve brought his fever down, but have him on a mild sedative for the moment. We can have one of our doctors come in and do an ultrasound for you if you’d like.”

“I’d like to wait until he wakes up,” Sherlock answered.

The doctor nodded and quietly left the room. He shut the door behind him with a soft click.

* * *

 

“That’s the last time I go swimming in the Thames…”

Sherlock looked up sharply at the sound of John’s voice and found the other man looking at him with hooded eyes. He looked better than he had nearly a day ago. The color returned to his cheeks and his fever had dropped significantly.

“Sherlock?” John started to sit up when he didn’t receive a response from the other man.

“I’m sorry…” Sherlock blurted out. “I never should’ve dragged you with me.”

“Sherlock you didn’t drag me anywhere,” John frowned. “I offered to go with you.”

“I should’ve said no then...you wouldn’t’ve gotten sick and...and…” Sherlock closed his eyes and leaned forward.

“And what Sherlock. What’s wrong? You’re not making sense,” John told him.

“You’re...you’re pregnant and I almost made you lose the baby,” Sherlock answered softly.

He opened his eyes and looked at John. “You said that you couldn’t go on cases while we were trying, and I didn’t listen. I’m so sorry.”

“Pregnant?” John repeated.

Sherlock nodded. “A couple weeks...I should’ve paid more attention.”

“Sherlock, I’m a _doctor_ and even I didn’t notice,” John tried to assure him. “And it’s not your fault I got sick. It was stupid to follow a bloody criminal into the Thames in a downpour anyway. But I’m going to be okay. Our baby is going to be okay Sherlock.”

 _Their baby…._ The two words struck a chord inside of Sherlock and his gaze dropped to John’s stomach.

“That explains why your cologne smells so bad,” John added as an afterthought.

Sherlock looked back up with a frown the tense air suddenly dispersed. “You bought me that Cologne  for Christmas.”

“Well it smells terrible,” John said.

“It’s just the hormones changing your scent receptors. I think it smells just fine,” Sherlock replied.

“Well, clearly the baby doesn’t like it,” John stated matter of fact.

“The baby can’t smell it John,” Sherlock pointed out.

John smiled softly. “I know.”

“Oh…you used them for argumentative purposes…” Sherlock said after a moment.

“Better get used to it Holmes,” John told him.

Sherlock bit his lip and leaned forward his chair. “Can I...feel?”

John nodded and leaned back a little more as he pushed the hospital blanket lower. Sherlock hesitated just a moment before he placed his hand flat on John’s stomach. He wanted to feel the actual skin underneath, but he could wait until they were back at the flat.

“How do you feel?” John asked.

“Better than the use of any drug,” Sherlock answered honestly. “I...Thank you John. Really.”

“You don’t have to thank me Sherlock,” John replied. “I should be thanking you for asking me. Out of anyone you could’ve picked…”

“There’s no one I’d want to do this with except you,” Sherlock told him. “I mean that John.”

John gave him a tired smile. “Who knew Sherlock Holmes was a softie.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” Sherlock chuckled. “Get some sleep John.”

“Sounds like an excellent idea,” John closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “You should do the same. Doctor’s might mistake you for a corpse.”

Sherlock let his hand linger on John’s stomach a little while longer before he sat back in the chair and drifted off himself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know I'm terrible for making them find out about the baby this way but the next chapter's got some fluff in it as an apology!


	6. Chapter 6:

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Afternoon gentlemen, how are we feeling today?” Dr. Wright smiled as she walked into the room. 
> 
> “Better than this morning,” John chuckled. 
> 
> “Bit of morning sickness I take it?” She gave him an understanding smile. 
> 
> “Just a bit,” John nodded. “Course Sherlock’s been a big help with that.” 
> 
> He saw the man’s cheeks tinge pink a little at the exclamation and found himself suddenly occupied with some of the medical supplies. 
> 
> “That’s good,” she smiled. “And I trust we haven’t had any more late night swims in the Thames?” 
> 
> “Learned my lesson last time,” John promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some fluff as promised!

**Chapter 6:**  


 

Whoever declared pregnancy a beautiful thing had clearly never been pregnant John decided. He closed his eyes and rest his head on the seat of the toilet. His mouth tasted gross, his stomach hurt from having spent the last two hours getting a second appearance at the only things he’d managed to keep down over the past few days. 

Crackers and ginger ale. 

“John?” Sherlock knocked on the door. “I’ve got some water…” 

“Doors open,” John managed just before he pitched forward again. He spit once he’d finished and took the offered washcloth Sherlock held out to him to wipe his mouth. 

“I could stay,” Sherlock said after a moment. 

“No, you have to go Sherlock. You can’t ignore a subpoena,” John told him. 

“Well….” Sherlock trailed off. 

“They would arrest you and wouldn’t release you until you agreed to talk,” John said. “And I highly doubt Mycroft would get you out.” 

“I should be here with you,” Sherlock frowned. 

“It’s just morning sickness Sherlock,” John replied. “Aside from watching me puke, there’s really nothing you need to be here for right now. I’ll see you at this afternoon’s appointment anyway.” 

Sherlock still looked reluctant. “If you’re sure.” 

“I’m positive, now go, seriously,” John shooed him out and leaned back against the bathtub. He rubbed his stomach and sighed. “Don’t wear that cologne.” He called as an afterthought. 

He could practically hear Sherlock rolling his eyes. “What about the one from Lestrade?” 

“That’ll do,” John agreed. 

Sherlock reappeared in the doorway of the bathroom a few minutes later. He straightened the sleeves of his jacket. 

“I’ve left some anti-nausea medicine on the table, and there’s bread in the toaster if you want toast. I’ve put a few more ginger ale’s in the fridge and told Mrs. Hudson not to disturb you for the time being,” Sherlock told him. “Our appointments’ at-” 

“Four, yes I know,” John interrupted with a fond smile. “Go on. You’re going to be late.” 

Sherlock nodded and with one last glance towards where John’s hand was resting, he turned on his heel and walked out. 

John waited another fifteen minutes before he pulled himself to his feet and flushed. He rinsed his mouth out and drank the water Sherlock had left him before going out to the kitchen. He turned on the kettle for some tea and pressed the lever down for some toast. 

He absentmindedly rubbed soothing circles on his stomach and picked up the tea packet’s left on the counter with a small note attached to them. 

_ Less likely to make you sick -SH _

John smiled a bit. Sherlock’s handwriting was atrocious at times, but the man meant well. He took the note off and read over the one he’d picked out. Ginger and mint. He made himself comfortable on the couch with his tea and toast once everything was finished and flipped on the TV.

* * *

 

_ John woke up to the sound of a baby crying and sighed. He started to push the blankets off of his body but was stopped by a pale hand.  _

_ “I’ve got them.”  _

_ John gave a grateful smile as the bed dipped and the tall figure walked over to the crib at the foot of the baby and carefully lifted the small baby inside.  _

_ “Shhh, it’s alright little one. I’ve got you.”  _

_ John smiled as the figure slowly paced the short length of the bedroom, rocking the baby back and forth in a gentle swaying. His eyes closed as soft lips were pressed against his brow and blinked to look up Sherlock.  _

_ “Go back to sleep. I’ve got them,” he told John.  _

 

John blinked and sat up groggily at the insistent ringing of his phone. He took a couple seconds to reorient himself and reached forward to turn off the alarm he didn’t remember setting.  2:00 pm flashed across the top of the screen as he got to his feet and made his way to the bathroom for a quick shower. For the life of him, he couldn’t remember much of his dream. Just the soft pleasant feeling it left in his chest. 

Sherlock was waiting for him outside of the hospital as he stepped out of the cab. He beat John to the door and held it open for him as he got out and paid the cabbie. 

“Did you set an alarm on my phone?” John asked. 

“Thought you might fall asleep,” Sherlock answered. 

“It’s password protected,” John pointed out. 

Sherlock snorted. “Some password John. It was child’s play.” He opened the door to the hospital as they walked into the building. “Good nap though?” 

“It was. Had a very nice dream but for some reason, I can’t remember it,” he answered. “How was the trial?” 

“Guilty on all accounts,” Sherlock answered pleased. “And they didn’t put me in a cell this time.” 

“Impressive,” John chuckled. “Be a shame for you to miss the appointment because you pissed off another judge.” 

“That was one time…” Sherlock pointed out. “Twice,” John reminded. He gave the nurse a smile as he signed the form and made his way over to the chairs. 

“When was the second time?” Sherlock asked. He joined him a minute later holding out a cup of water. 

“Ta,” John took the cup. “It was the case with the florist. They gave him a court-appointed lawyer and you practically ripped them to shreds.” 

“Yes well, they should do better. The florist was clearly innocent,” Sherlock said. He laid his arm across the back of John’s chair. “Did the tea and toast help?” 

“It did thank you,” John smiled. 

“I read that sourdough can help with nausea,” Sherlock told him. “What? Why are you staring at me?” 

“Nothing...nothing, just, trying to get used to this...you’re being so...considerate,” John admitted. 

“Your wellbeing is the number one priority John,” Sherlock told him. “And while I am a bit out of my depth, I want you to be as comfortable as possible.” His gaze softened as he looked at John’s middle. 

He was still hesitant to touch, since that night in the hospital. John would catch him staring when the detective thought he wasn’t looking. Not that there was much to stare at. While John had gained a few pounds over the last few weeks, nothing had taken shape yet, so it looked like more pudge than an actually bump. 

The nurse called them before John could say anything and they followed her to the room. John changed into the gown again and sat on the table. Sherlock remembered to stay by his head this time. John appreciated it. 

“Afternoon gentlemen, how are we feeling today?” Dr. Wright smiled as she walked into the room. 

“Better than this morning,” John chuckled. 

“Bit of morning sickness I take it?” She gave him an understanding smile. 

“Just a bit,” John nodded. “Course Sherlock’s been a big help with that.” 

He saw the man’s cheeks tinge pink a little at the exclamation and found himself suddenly occupied with some of the medical supplies. 

“That’s good,” she smiled. “And I trust we haven’t had any more late night swims in the Thames?” 

“Learned my lesson last time,” John promised. “Through me off a little to feel fine for a few weeks and then suddenly find myself having to spend two hours in the loo at five in the morning.” 

Sherlock turned with a frown. “Since five?” 

“Sometimes five, sometimes six,” John answered. 

“Some people don’t always show symptoms until after it’s been diagnosed in the same way one might slice their finger but don’t register the pain until they actually look at it,” Dr. Wright replied. “Now, we’ll just do a quick exam and then I’ll write down some vitamins for you to take, as well as a few home remedies.”

* * *

 

"You’ve been up since five?” Sherlock repeated as they walked down the aisle of Tesco’s. 

“Just this morning,” John told him. He looked at the list of vitamins Dr. Wright had written down for them. He was sticking with the required for now, and a few of the home remedies. He set the bottles in the cart. “It’s really no different than having to get up early for work.” 

“Speaking of work...would it be so bad to start your leave early?” Sherlock asked. 

“Sherlock, I’m fine to go back to work,” John answered. “Besides what would I do all day while you’re off running around solving cases hmm?” 

Sherlock, not that he would admit it, pouted as he leaned on the railing of the cart. “But there are too many germs...what if you get sick again?” 

“I got sick because I dove head on into the Thames and I don’t plan on doing that again,” John said. 

He looked back in time to catch the brief flash of guilt in Sherlock’s eyes before it was quickly replaced by feigned indifference. 

“I suppose I can’t stop you from going to work,” Sherlock sighed. 

“No, you can’t,” John chuckled.

* * *

 

“John?”

“Sherlock?” John frowned as he somewhat woke up and found Sherlock standing at the foot of his bed. 

He had on a t-shirt and a pair of sleep pants. He seemed to be fiddling with the sleeve of his dressing gown. 

“What did you do?” John sighed as he started to get up. 

“Nothing...well...no, nothing,” Sherlock answered. “I’m sorry...I’ve disturbed you I’ll let you get back to sleep.” 

Something in John’s brain clicked as he remembered their brief conversation in Tesco’s. He shifted over a little and pulled the blankets back a bit. 

“Get in,” he yawned. 

“Are you sure?” Sherlock asked. 

“You’re letting in the cold air,” John answered. 

Sherlock didn’t need to be told twice as he took off his dressing gown and tossed it across the foot of the bed. John pulled the covers back once he was situated and settled back down. Sherlock laid rigid on his side and John could feel the cover's moving as his hand seemed to bounce on his leg. 

“Go on then,” John added. 

Things were still for a couple minutes, then Sherlock’s hand found its way to his middle and his body relaxed. John fell back to sleep shortly after when the feeling of long fingers gently stroking. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft did not look amused. “I thought it might be nice for us to have Italian as Italy is where mother and father exchanged their vows, fifty-two years ago. We’ll start with zuppa toscana, followed by spaghetti alla puttanesca with garlic bread, and mozzarella stuffed meatballs, with, of course, mother’s famous lemon ginger cheesecake for dessert.” 
> 
> “Forget dinner, let’s just get to the desert,” John said under his breath. 
> 
> “Mummy brought us an extra one,” Sherlock replied in a murmur. “I’ve hidden it in the vegetable drawer of the fridge.” 
> 
> “You’re brilliant you know that?” John smiled.
> 
> “So I’ve been told,” Sherlock smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry I plan to revisit the bedsharing in a later chapter, but I thought it time for a lovely family dinner. Micah (Mycroft and Lestrade's by surrogacy) is about nine months old just in case people are wondering. As always enjoy :)

**Chapter 7:**

“Still can’t believe you agreed to have a baby with him,” Lestrade said as he handed John a glass of water. “Then again, I still can’t believe he’s my brother in law.” 

John chuckled. “I was most certainly on the fence about the whole thing,” John sighed. “With Sherlock being well...Sherlock, but he’s been very considerate so far. He’s still upset about the Thames incident though...I keep trying to reassure him but most of the time he get’s that look…” 

“I know what you mean,” Lestrade nodded in understanding. “Myc can be the same way about certain things. What do you think they’re talking about?” He motioned to where Sherlock and Mycroft were speaking in hushed tones, Sherlock was letting Micah play with the phone and periodically wiping the drool from the corner of his mouth. 

“I heard vague mentions of ‘bet’ and ‘going to win’ in the cab ride over,” John answered. “Of what, I’m not entirely sure.” 

“God help us all,” Lestrade chuckled as the doorbell went off. “Ah, that’d be the in-laws then.” He set his drink aside as he made a beeline for the front door and John felt a bit nervous. 

“John!,” Mrs. Holmes smiled when saw him. “I was so happy when Mycy told us you and Sherlock would joining us for dinner. Give us a hug then dear.” 

John set his drink down and returned the woman’s hug. “Sherlock’s been trying to wiggle his way out, but when I heard it was you and Mr. Holmes’s anniversary I insisted he come.” 

“I thought you were supposed to say nice things about me John,” Sherlock said as he walked over. “Happy anniversary mummy.” He leaned in and kissed his mother on the cheek. “Where on earth did you find this?” he pointed to Micah’s onesie styled to look like a penguin complete with a small hood. “And do they come like bees?” 

“No cheating,” Mycroft said as he walked over. 

“I was only curious,” Sherlock replied innocently.

“Right then, come to grandma Micah, you’re the babe in the room and your uncle and father still insistent on acting like children,” She sighed. 

John stifled a laugh at the small pout Sherlock gave as Mrs. Holmes took the child and walked away to join Lestrade and on the couch. 

“Four minutes and counting,” Mycroft smirked as he walked away to join them. 

“What was that about?” John asked. 

“Nothing, we’ve just got a little bet is all,” Sherlock answered. 

“Sherlock it’s your parents anniversary,” John sighed. “Can’t you two behave like actual adults for one night?” 

“Dull,” Sherlock rolled his eyes. “How are you feeling?” 

“Was feeling a bit queasy earlier, but Greg got me some seltzer and I’m feeling better. Cider’s a bit too sweet for my tastes,” John answered. “Might also be a bit of nerves.”

“We don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to,” Sherlock reminded him. “I’m sure they’d understand.” 

“Sherlock they’re your parents, if my mother were alive today, she’d be the first person I’d want to tell,” John answered. “Sides, I know you’re looking for a way to one  up Mycroft in the gift department.” 

“You know me so well,” Sherlock chuckled. 

“Course I do,” John smiled. 

“Now that we are all here, I believe it’s an excellent time for dinner,” Mycroft announced. He motioned to the dining room. 

“I slipped into the kitchen earlier and asked the cook to put aside some less seasoned dishes in case something doesn’t sit well,” Sherlock murmured as they sat down. “Mycroft is a fan of spices.” 

“Don’t remind me, I was tasting that Morrocan chicken for weeks after the last time,” John set his glass next to his plate. 

“Remember the French fiasco?” Sherlock asked. 

John tried not to laugh. 

“If you two are quite finished,” Mycroft deadpanned. 

“Apologies brother, we were just discussing this evening culinary wonder you’ve had prepared for us this evening,” Sherlock smiled as he picked up his wine, “and wonder if we’ll be tasting it for weeks after.” He murmured the part and John snorted. 

Mycroft did not look amused. “I thought it might be nice for us to have Italian as Italy is where mother and father exchanged their vows, fifty-two years ago. We’ll start with zuppa toscana , followed by spaghetti alla puttanesca with garlic bread, and mozzarella stuffed meatballs, with, of course, mother’s famous lemon ginger cheesecake for dessert.” 

“Forget dinner, let’s just get to the desert,” John said under his breath. 

“Mummy brought us an extra one,” Sherlock replied in a murmur. “I’ve hidden it in the vegetable drawer of the fridge.” 

“You’re brilliant you know that?” John smiled. 

“So I’ve been told,” Sherlock smiled back.

* * *

 

“Thought I might find you are here,” Mr. Holmes said as he joined Sherlock outside. “Got an extra?” 

Sherlock looked at his father apologetically. “Fraid it’s electric...besides, mummy would kill me if I gave you a cigarette. I shouldn’t even be smoking this…” 

“So I will be expecting another grandchild soon,” he chuckled. 

“How…?” Sherlock frowned. 

“Your mother isn’t the only one who can be observant,” his father smiled. “I know the signs. Does this means you two are together then?” 

Sherlock shook his head. “We’ve just decided to raise a baby together.”

“Ah,” Mr. Holmes nodded and put his hands in his pockets. “I see.” 

“You’re not...disappointed are you?” Sherlock asked. “I wanted to tell you and mummy, it was supposed to be part of your anniversary gift...thought it might be nice but I wasn’t sure how you would take us having the baby since we aren’t...together.”

“Are the two of you happy with the way things are and the idea of raising a child together?” Mr. Holmes asked. 

Sherlock nodded. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this happy about anything, and the wait, oh how do you stand it? I just want them here already.” 

Mr. Holmes chuckled. “When your mum was pregnant with your elder brother, I don’t think I ever relaxed until he after he was born. He wasn’t exactly planned, but it was exciting nonetheless.” 

“...I was planned right?” Sherlock asked. 

“Yes, yes you were, and yes it was still just as exciting,” his father smiled. “Now, we best get inside before your mother comes looking. I believe you’ve got a little announcement to make.” 

Sherlock nodded and tucked the electric cigarette into his jacket pocket and followed his father back into the house. John was seated on the couch with Micah in his lap, holding a teething ring for him to suck on.  He looked over as Sherlock sat next to him and smiled. “Was wondering if we’d have to send the whole of Scotland Yard after you,” he joked. 

“Just went outside for a bit of a smoke,” Sherlock answered. “Electric of course. I couldn’t find Mycroft’s...or the one’s Lestrade thinks Mycroft doesn’t know about…Don’t pick up smoking Micah, it’s a terrible habit and we’re all going to pay for it dearly.” 

John chuckled. “He’s not kidding. Your uncle gets winded after ten blocks nowadays,” he teased. 

Sherlock did not pout. Not at all. 

“Are you worried about telling them?” John asked. 

“A little,” Sherlock admitted. “Though I talked to my father and he’s happy for us.” 

“And your mother?” John asked. 

“I’m never sure what to expect with her,” he answered. 

John reached over and squeezed his hand. “She’ll be happy for you.” 

“Us,” Sherlock corrected. He squeezed John’s hand and that warm feeling in his chest returned again as he watched John fix Micah’s onesie. 

“Let’s get this over with shall we? Come on Micah, let’s go see grandma.”  Micah squealed as Sherlock picked him up and immediately reached for his curls. John chuckled a bit as they stood up. 

“Mummy?” Sherlock asked as they walked over. “There is something John and I would like to tell you.” 

“Right then, I do believe it’s time for this one to get to bed,” Lestrade finished off his drink and set it on the table. “Let’s see if we can’t get papa to read you a bedtime story again shall we?” 

Sherlock handed his nephew to Lestrade and crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Everything alright dear?” Mrs. Holmes asked. 

“Of course,” Sherlock assured her. He took a deep breath in an attempt to gather his thoughts. “John and I have decided to have a baby together...and in the next eight months or so, because babies are rather intent on arriving at a time more suitable for their tastes I believe, you will have another grandchild.” 

“Sherlock! That’s wonderful news,” Mrs. Holmes smiled as she stood up. “You know, I had a little feeling, but I couldn’t be certain about it you know. Oh, tell me you’re not dragging John to the four corners of London in this condition." 

“Sherlock’s been very considerate, even before we found out about the baby,” John assured her.

“I just knew you two were perfect for each other, his father and I were just talking about how happy our little boy’s been ever since you came ‘round John,” she smiled. 

“I think that’s quite enough mummy...wouldn’t want to say something one of us wouldn’t recover from…” Sherlock cleared his throat awkwardly. 

“I’m sure your parents must have been so excited to hear the news,” Mrs. Holmes continued. 

“Actually my parents are deceased,” John answered. “But I’d like to think they’d be excited at the prospect of a grandchild.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Mrs. Holmes apologized. “If you ever need anything dear, lord knows Sherlock’s got his uses, but he just wouldn’t understand what we go through.” 

“I’m standing right here,” Sherlock reminded. “I’m doing everything in my ability to keep John as comfortable as possible. I’ve read all the books, I’ve done all the research-” 

“Sweetheart, you could read every book in the world and it still wouldn’t prepare you for these next months,” She interrupted gently. “Trust me, Sherlock, on these matters, mother knows best.”

* * *

 

“I am exhausted,” John sighed as he sat on the couch. “And stuffed, I don’t know how I let your mother talk me into another slice of cheesecake.” He rubbed his stomach. 

“Something about you eating for two,” Sherlock summarized as he carried the extra cheesecake into the kitchen. He placed it in the fridge and closed the door, pausing when he saw the small sonogram photo from the last appointment a few weeks ago. “Is she right?” 

“Right about what?” John asked. 

“About being prepared…” Sherlock answered as he walked back to the living room. 

“I don’t think anyone’s fully prepared for parenthood Sherlock,” John answered. 

He’d moved to recline on the couch, with his fingers laced over his stomach. “Just when you think you’ve got it all covered, you’re given a curveball. Always keeps you on your toes.” 

“Bed might be more comfortable,” Sherlock pointed out as he began to take off his coat. He hung it by the door and made his way to the couch. 

“I’ll get there,” John replied. “Baby’s trying to decide if likes dinner or not. I’ll be thoroughly disappointed if they decide they don’t like it.” 

“Should’ve asked Mycroft for leftovers,” Sherlock agreed. 

John rubbed his eyes as he sat up and pushed himself off the couch. “Probably for the best we didn’t, wouldn't have lasted a week.” 

“Good point,” Sherlock crossed his arms over his chest. 

“You alright?” John asked. “You were quiet on the cab ride back, which is odd considering we just spent about five hours at Mycroft's.” 

“Reorganizing the mind palace,” Sherlock answered dismissively. “Best to do it every so often to keep it from getting cluttered.” 

“Still no room for the solar system?” John teased. 

“It isn’t that important John,” Sherlock rolled his eyes as he picked up his sheet music. “Honestly, who needs the solar system.” 

John chuckled as he started to leave the room. “Good night Sherlock.” 

“Pleasant dreams John…” 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John was already working on his second cookie when Sherlock returned carrying their largest coffee cup. He waited patiently as he sent off a few more texts, going by the ping noises, before he put the phone into his back pocket and looking at John, then down at the paper bag with the Millie’s insignia on the front. 
> 
> “What makes you think I got you one?” John asked. 
> 
> “Because you always do,” Sherlock answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Sherlock's not exactly subtle and John is a bit greatful.

**Chapter 8:**

“Bugger…” John muttered under his breath as he tossed his jeans aside and put his hands on his hips as he stared down his once clean room. “Something’s got to fit.” 

He found a pair of black khaki’s that would have to do and tucked his shirt into the waistband and pulled a jumper to go over it. 

“That took longer than normal,” Sherlock pointed out as John walked into the kitchen. “Everything alright?” 

“My clothes shrunk,” John answered. 

Sherlock frowned. “Shrank? How did they-”

“Not a word,” John interrupted. 

Sherlock wordlessly went back to whatever he was doing on his laptop. “I need new clothes, the last case ruined a some of my favorite suits, and some of my clothes are starting to look a bit dated.  Would you like to join me?” 

“I don’t get off until three,” John answered. 

“I can wait,” Sherlock glanced up. “You know I value your opinion on certain matters. You do have your uses you know.” 

John sat down across from him with his cup of tea. “Someone should go with you, last time you came home with pinpricks because you insulted the tailor.” 

“It wasn’t my fault his husband was sleeping with his manager,” Sherlock pointed out. 

“No, but you didn’t have to point it out to him while he was in the process of hemming your pants,” John told him. “I'm still amazed you didn't feel him purposely sticking you with pins.” 

“I just thought he was a bad tailor,” Sherlock replied.

John rolled his eyes and finished his tea. “I find that hard to believe," he pointed out as he stood. 

“Shall I meet you once you've finished? Or would you prefer to come back here first?” Sherlock asked as he John put his cup in the sink. 

“Outside the surgery will be fine,” John answered. “Just, don’t antagonize the patients. Or the nurses…” 

“No promises,” Sherlock replied. 

John rolled his eyes with a bit of a smile as he gathered his things and headed off to work. He knew what Sherlock was trying to do and John appreciated it. Only a month and a half in and he was already starting to show. Not that he wasn’t unhappy about it, it just made finding clothes that fit in the morning a bit more difficult.  He had to remember to thank Sherlock for this morning and the offer. He felt bad about almost snapping at the man, it wasn’t Sherlock’s fault that John didn’t have good self-control when it came time to eating, and snacking. 

He gave his stomach a loving pat. “He’ll never let on, but your father is just one big softie,” he chuckled.

* * *

 

“Er...John?” Sarah poked her head inside of the room. “I think Sherlock’s waiting for you outside.” 

“Oh, right,” John blinked. “We’ve got a bit of an afternoon planned. Almost completely forgot about it, to be honest. He’s not causing any trouble is he?” 

“No, no, not yet anyway,” she half-joked.

John chuckled a bit. “Don’t worry, I’m just about finished here.” He finished filling out a few forms and put them in his desk drawer before grabbing his things and following Sarah out of the room. Sherlock was standing outside of the surgery and off to the side, head bent over his phone. 

“I’ll try to remind him not to skulk outside,” John told her as he put on his coat. “See you Monday.” 

She gave him a small wave and he headed outside to meet Sherlock. He tried not to raise an eyebrow when he saw Sherlock wearing a pair of black jeans as opposed to suit pants. 

“You never wear Jeans,” John pointed out. 

“I told you,” Sherlock said with a huff. “My favorite suits were ruined with the last case, and my other’s were all dirty.” 

John chuckled. “So we’re picking you up an entire wardrobe then?”

“Among other things,” Sherlock answered as he got them a cab. “I thought we could go to The Village. Shopping first, then dinner?” 

“Mind if we grab a little something before the shopping part?” John asked. “Feeling a bit peckish.” 

“Course,” Sherlock nodded. “I believe we’ll be close to Starbucks, or that cookie place.” 

“Either or will be fine for me,” John answered. He wrinkled his nose as he imagined walking into Starbucks and the overwhelming smell of ground coffee. “On second thought, Millie’s will do.”

The Village was a bit sparse by way of the people, John noted, as they got out of the cab. John made for the cookie shop, the sweetness of sugar and chocolate a much more enjoyable smell while Sherlock made a beeline for Starbucks, not that he would ever admit it, but Sherlock had a weak spot for a few of their signature drinks. 

John was already working on his second cookie when Sherlock returned carrying their largest coffee cup. He waited patiently as he sent off a few more texts, going by the ping noises, before he put the phone into his back pocket and looking at John, then down at the paper bag with the Millie’s insignia on the front. 

“What makes you think I got you one?” John asked. 

“Because you always do,” Sherlock answered. 

John wordlessly held the bag out and Sherlock reached in picking out the cherry Bakewell, how he managed to do it without looking, John still hadn’t figured out. 

“Hackett is closest so I think it’s best to start there,” Sherlock said. 

“Looking for anything in particular?” John asked. 

“Not really,” Sherlock answered as they began walking. “I only like their oxfords, I’ll get my suits from Tyrwhitt, possibly Hugo Boss, though I never find anything there, and Burton’s, at least until I can find a new tailor, or bully Mycroft into giving me the name of his again.” 

John thought back to the last time they’d come to The Village, he knew each store was relatively close to a couple men’s maternity clothing stores, and he had to give a soft chuckle at Sherlock’s lack of subtlety. He knew Sherlock wouldn’t be long in Hackett’s, he never was and indeed twenty minutes later, they left with three oxfords, two sweaters and a few pairs of trousers. 

“Has that store always been there?” John frowned and motioned to the store just up ahead. It was clearly a maternity store judging by the manikins made to look pregnant, a mixture of both male and female in the front window display, dressed in casual clothing but seemed to be more suited for people a bit older. 

“I think it’s new,” Sherlock answered. “Would you like to take a look?” 

“You mind?” John asked. 

“Not at all, Tyrwhitt’s just over there,” Sherlock answered. 

“I’ll meet you when I’ve finished then, probably won’t be very long,” John told him. 

“Of course,” Sherlock nodded. 

John tossed the empty cookie bag into the trash as he made his way to the store and looked around in slight wonder. 

“Afternoon sir,” the store clerk greeted him with a smile. “How can I help you today?” 

“Uh, just looking for now,” John answered. “This store’s new isn't it?” 

“Opened just about a month ago,” she nodded. “Let me know if you’ve got any questions, or are in need of a fitting room.” 

John nodded and walked towards the men’s section of the store. He was taken aback by the various shades of color their jumpers came in and examined some of the fabric. It was soft against his skin, and according to the tag made to stretch without losing its shape. According to the tag it was also quite expensive. 

He took out his phone as it buzzed and read the text from Sherlock.

**Finished here. Find anything? -SH**

**Still looking, yeah -JW**

He pocketed his phone when there was no reply and picked up a few sweaters intending to try them on and moved on to the pants. 

He heard the woman at the counter greet a new customer and glanced up at the rustling of bags. Sherlock’s largest coffee was replaced by two fo the next smallest sizes, but one was no doubt filled with the same amount of caffeine. 

“I got you some tea,” Sherlock held up the cup in his left hand. 

“Ta,” John smiled a bit in thanks. “Any luck?” 

“Shoe wise,” Sherlock nodded. “Though, you seem to have some good luck.” 

John glanced down at his growing pile of clothes a bit embarrassed. “Probably won’t get most of them, but it doesn’t hurt to try’em.” He found a few more pants that would be nice for work and went in search the clerk at the desk. 

“Will we be needing a dressing room then?” She smiled. 

“Looks like,” he chuckled. 

“It’ll just be right over there,” she led him to the other side of the store. 

“Try this one too,” Sherlock said as he fell into step with them. He dropped another jumper on top John’s already decent sized armload of clothes and took a seat on one of the plush couches. 

“Let me know if you need anything else,” she gave them both a smile before walking away. 

John set the clothes on the bench and closed the door of the fitting room. He started with the few sweaters he’d grabbed. He liked the dark blue one best and paired it with a pair of tan khakis. They weren’t as form fitting as he thought they’d be given their initial appearance, but still showed enough.

He tried on the rest, took out the ones he didn’t like, didn’t lessen the pile he had though. 

“Well?” Sherlock asked as John stepped back out once he’d finished. 

“These not so much,” John had the one he didn’t like in one arm and those he did in the other. 

“Shall I hold these while you put those back?” Sherlock motioned to the ‘liked’ pile. 

“Oh, uh sure,” John nodded. “Thanks.” 

“I’ll just meet you at the counter then,” Sherlock told him. 

“Wait? Why?” John blinked. 

“Well we have to pay for the clothes John, we can’t exactly just steal an arm load of clothes, a sweater or two yes, but not an arm full,” Sherlock replied. “If it’s about the prices, I’ve got it covered.” 

“I can’t ask you to do that,” John shook his head. 

“Then don’t,” Sherlock told him. “Let me...Please?” 

John sighed at the sincerity in Sherlock’s voice. “Are you sure?” 

“Positive,” Sherlock answered. 

“If you’re certain…” John was still a little uncomfortable at the idea of Sherlock paying for all of it, but he knew it wasn’t an argument he was going to be winning. 

Sherlock grinned and handed John his still warm tea. “Good. You go put those away and I’ll head to the counter.” 

John put the ones he didn’t like back in their proper places before joining Sherlock at the counter. He reached for a few scarves that he knew he hadn’t grabbed and looked at Sherlock. 

“It’s getting colder, and you still haven’t found your other scarf,” Sherlock answered. “You’d be sick within the week…” he picked up one of the scarves and handed it to John once it’d been scanned. 

“Wish my husband was as considerate as you,” she chuckled as she took Sherlock’s credit card. “Just sign here please.” 

John blinked at the meaning behind her words, and wasn’t sure what to say to that. 

“I’m sure he makes up for it in other ways,” Sherlock gave her a polite smile as passed back the signed receipt and collected the bags. John grabbed Sherlock’s own coffee cup as the detective picked up his own shopping bags and with a quick thanks they left the store. 

“...Should we have said something?” John asked after a beat of silence. 

“Does it really matter what a complete stranger things?” Sherlock asked. 

“No, but...I mean, we’re not exactly married Sherlock, and when I start to show people are going to ask questions,” John answered. 

“What do you think we should say then?” Sherlock asked. “I’m fine with letting them think what they want but I understand you get somewhat uncomfortable about it sometimes.” 

“We...could say we’re partners,” John chanced a look at Sherlock. “It’s not far from the truth given we’re ‘work partners’ right?”

“Partners?” Sherlock repeated. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah...yes,” John nodded. “Outside of Mycroft, Lestrade, your parents and my bosses at the surgery, no one really needs to know we’re just two flatmates having a baby together. Just a little white lie if a stranger gets curious.” 

“Well, as your partner,” Sherlock reached into one of the bags and pulled out a scarf, “I have to insist. I wasn’t kidding about the getting sick part.” 

“Alright alright,” John set their cups down on the bench they were next to and wrapped the scarf around his neck. “Better?” 

“Much,” Sherlock nodded.

* * *

 

“Sherlock, I can hear you pacing outside the door,” John closed his book and set it on the nightstand. 

“We should hyphenate,” Sherlock said as he walked into the bedroom.

“What?” John made room for him as he sat at the foot of the bed. 

“On the birth certificate,” Sherlock answered. “The child should have both of our names. Watson-Holmes is the best combination.” 

“Sherlock, this couldn’t have waited until the morning?” John asked. He was starting to feel the effects of his shift, and nearly three hours of shopping and following a few chapters of his books, had planned to go to bed. 

“Ah...right…” Sherlock looked a bit embarrassed as he climbed off to the bed and grabbed the door knob. “Night John.” 

“Good night Sherlock,” John chuckled a bit as the door shut behind him with a soft click. He reached up and turned the light off as he laid down and pulled the covers up. 

“Watson-Holmes?” He yawned. “Not a bad combination at all…” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The stores Sherlock picked up his clothes from are Charles Tyrwhitt, Burton's Menswear and Hackett London. I made up the maternity store for John.


	9. Chapter 9:

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I suppose we could make an announcement around…” Sherlock stiffened as the thought nagging him for the last month made itself known to him. ”John, tell me I didn’t agree to us hosting an American Thanksgiving this year…” Sherlock looked at John with equal parts dread and fear. 
> 
> John gave him a sympathetic smile. “I told you not to drink so much.” He put his hands in his pockets as he watched Sherlock summon a cab as if out of thin air.
> 
> “Bollocks,” Sherlock swore and crossed his arms over his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we finally get to hear the baby's heartbeat! And Sherlock's finally realized some extra feelings about our lovely doctor. 
> 
> As to answer any questions about why Lestrade and Mycroft used a surrogate rest assured it will be answered in the next coming chapters or so. 
> 
> Enjoy!

**Chapter 9:**

Sherlock regarded John over the top of the newspaper, while the other man seemingly dozed quietly on the couch with his fingers laced together over his abdomen. Over their baby.

_Their baby._ It still gave Sherlock chills to think about.

Never in his life had he ever thought he’d have children, let alone find someone willing to have a child with _him._ He was still trying to understand why John had said yes. Yes, Sherlock knew his argument had been sound, but he hadn’t actually expected John to yes. Maybe a sympathetic smile, an understanding of the need to reproduce, and a gentle letdown, but not a yes. Not ‘You have fully convinced me’ with that smile Sherlock was starting to think was just reserved for him.

John wasn’t always an expressive man,  but Sherlock found himself cataloging the moments he was. The upturn of his lips, the crinkle around his eyes when he was really happy. The emotion in those eyes. It...did something to the detective.

“Sherlock…?” John’s voice was thick with sleep, ah so it turned into a full nap then, as he started to sit up.

Sherlock blinked. “We have an appointment for five.”

John rubbed his eyes with one of his hands and nodded. “Yeah, I know...we should get going, if we wanna make it on time.”

“Right…” Sherlock cleared his throat a little as he folded the paper and tossed it onto the floor. He rose and buttoned his jacket back up while John took a few minutes to reorient himself.

He’d dressed in a pair of worn jeans that were stretched enough to fit around the slowly growing swell of his abdomen, and one of the sweaters they’d picked up at the store a few days ago. The one Sherlock had picked out, a nice dark green v-neck with fitted cuffs on the wrists.

It was loose enough that you could only see the barely there curve of John’s stomach, and Sherlock waited with bated breath when the time would come for it to be noticeable. For everyone to see.

Sherlock had found the thought of seeing John full of their child had brought out something almost, no, not almost, _very_ primal in him. He’d admittedly thought about approaching John about possibly resuming the more sexual side of things nearly a month into the pregnancy, though quickly pushed the thought aside when he thought back to John’s words about their friendship.

It took Sherlock a moment to realize he was still standing in the same spot, in front of his chair with John zipping up his coat, and staring at him with a raised eyebrow.

“You alright over there?” John asked. There was a fair bit of concern in his voice and Sherlock reached up to briefly run a hand through his hair in an effort to dislodge the thoughts currently running through his brain.

“Fine,” Sherlock nodded and walked over to join him. He pulled on his own coat and wrapped the scarf around his neck. John did the same with his own, he’d gone with the black wool scarf Sherlock had also picked out.

Sherlock, whether intentionally or not he didn’t know, placed his hand on John’s lower back to usher him out of the apartment. He shut the door behind them with a soft click and the two men descended downstairs.

“You think we should tell Mrs. Hudson soon?” John asked. “It’ll be harder and harder to keep it from her…”

“I suppose we could make an announcement around…” Sherlock stiffened as the thought nagging him for the last month made itself known to him. ”John, tell me I didn’t agree too us hosting an _American_ Thanksgiving this year…” Sherlock looked at John with equal parts dread and fear.

John gave him a sympathetic smile. “I told you not to drink so much.” He put his hands in his pockets as he watched Sherlock summon a cab as if out of thin air.

“Bollocks,” Sherlock swore and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why didn’t you stop me?”

“I tried,” John pointed out. “Even started watering down your drinks, but the damage had been done...you were very adamant about it...I’m sure it won’t be that bad. It’ll just be a small group right?”

“You, me, Mycroft, Lestrade, Micah, Molly, Mrs. Hudson and perhaps mummy and father unless they’ve decided to visit other members of the family,” Sherlock answered. “That’s nine people!”

John frowned. “Nine?”

Sherlock gave John’s abdomen a pointed look before he looked back at the doctor. “You count as two.”

John rolled his eyes. “Right then, so nine people,” he nodded. “Well, should we do it in the evening or in the afternoon?”

“Early evening I suppose,” Sherlock answered. “Five should suffice for everyone, I’ll need to rearrange some furniture, get a larger table...I suppose I could ask mummy for a few of her recipes.” He already had his phone in hand as he began composing a text to his mother. “Formal invitations?”

“Might be a nice touch,” John answered.

“Something better than what Mycroft sent out,” Sherlock mused.

“Sherlock, can we not use every holiday as a way for you to one-up our brother?” John asked. “May I remind you of the 4th of July of 2014 fiasco.”

“We agreed never to speak of that again,” Sherlock said. “And this is completely different. No fireworks will be involved. I promise.”

John looked skeptical but sighed. “What am I doing then?”

“Turkey, and stuffing, perhaps some of the vegetables...your turkey always comes out better…” Sherlock answered. “And the decorating no doubt.”

He glanced over and saw a small smile tug at the corner of John’s lips at the small compliment and there was that feeling in Sherlock’s chest again. Sherlock looked back at his phone and read over the text from his mother, pleased she agreed to share some of her recipes with them, but also expressing her regret about not being able to attend.

“Seven people,” Sherlock said as he pocketed his phone. “Mummy and father have a prior engagement. But they want us to join them for Christmas.”

“That sounds nice,” John replied.

Sherlock paid the driver as they got out and the two walked briskly into the building. The warmth was a nice relief from the already near freezing temperatures outside and Sherlock made a mental note to start a fire the second they returned home.

Sherlock walked up to the desk to sign them in and paused. “Is Dr. Wright not in today?”

“She was called away on an emergency,” the receptionist answered. “But Dr. Carters is just as excellent unless you’d prefer to reschedule.”

“No, we’ll see this...Dr. Carters,” Sherlock finished signing them in and joined John by the chairs. “Someone else will be doing the exam.”

“Not Dr. Wright?” John asked.

“She had an emergency. Someone named Dr. Carters will be doing it instead,” Sherlock answered.

“I’m sure he’s just as qualified as she is,” John told him.

“I’m sure we’ll find out,” Sherlock said as one of the nurses called them.

Dr. Carters was a stout man, with a clear smoking habit. Sherlock took a decisive step away if John noticed Sherlock drawing himself to his full height and placing a hand on his shoulder he said nothing.

“Good afternoon gentlemen,” he smiled as he walked over. “Just do a quick exam and then we’ll get to that ultrasound.”

Despite, the smoking habit, Dr. Carters was very apt at his job, and by the time they got to the ultrasound, he was pretty much allowing Sherlock the use of his chair in order to get a better look at the grainy screen.

“Sherlock, you’re head's in the way,” John finger’s grazed the back the detective’s head in an effort to get him to move and Sherlock suppressed a small shudder.

He wordlessly moved just enough for John to see as Dr. Carters typed a few things into the keyboard.

“Are you two ready to hear the heartbeat?” he asked.

“Yes, please,” John answered.

Sherlock’s tongue felt like it was stuck to the roof of his mouth as the sound seemed to fill the room when in actuality he knew it was just due to sitting so close to the screen.

“Christ...that’s...that’s really their heartbeat?” John asked.

“Nice and strong innit?” Dr. Carters smiled. “Would you like a few pictures or a short video? Won’t be long mind you, probably just-”

“Yes,” Sherlock interrupted. He still couldn’t tear his eyes away from the screen.

Dr. Carters chuckled. “Just give me a moment, I’ll get one of the nurses to bring them to you.

They thanked him once John had finished getting changed and Sherlock clutched both photos and disc in his hands like a lifeline of sorts.

“Dr. Carters, do you er...have a moment?” Sherlock hung back after John had left to use the bathroom and get them checked out.

“Course Mr. Holmes, what can I do for you?” he asked.

“I seem to find myself with an increase of sudden sexual urges,” Sherlock answered. “Is that normal?”

“Towards your partner?” Dr. Carters asked with a raised eyebrow.

_Partners..._ the word had bounced around in Sherlock’s head for days after the trip The Village. He nodded in answer. Nothing wrong with a little white lie.

Dr. Carters smiled. “Of course it’s normal Mr. Holmes, most men do get a bit more sexually attracted towards their partners during the duration of pregnancy, most likely has to do with a certain sense of pride that comes with knowing the one they love is carrying their child. Nothing to be worried about.”

“Perfectly normal you say?” Sherlock asked.

Dr. Carters nodded.

Sherlock thanked him and strode out to the waiting room where John was waiting with a curious gaze. He was not wrong about the attraction part, even before they agreed to have a baby, Sherlock had found John more attractive than the average man or woman.

And the glow.

The glow just made him more attractive. The near-permanent flush to his cheeks, how soft it all looked.

“You’re staring again,” John interrupted his thoughts. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Thinking about seating arrangements,” Sherlock lied. “We’ll need a highchair for Micah...I may have used the last one for an experiment.” Now that was a truth.

“Do I want to know?” John asked with a sigh.

“Probably not no,” Sherlock answered as he opened the door to lead outside.

The cab ride home was quieter than the one there, Sherlock was mainly on his phone, he flipped between ordering the invitations for Christmas, making a list of grocery items and trying to find a high chair.

* * *

 “Sherlock? What are you still doing up?” John yawned as he walked into the living room. “It’s nearly two in the morning.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Sherlock pointed out. He was sprawled on his back with the photos from the earlier appointment raised above his head as he tried to make out the small shape of the baby.

“Need the loo,” John answered. “Place came with one bathroom remember?”

Sherlock turned his head as John walked past him to get to the bathroom. He sat up and set the pictures on the coffee table.

“It’s really real isn’t it?” Sherlock asked as John came back. 

“Of course it’s real,” John answered, he sat next to him on the couch and looked at the pictures. “What made you think it wasn’t?”

Sherlock gave him a wry smile. “Who’d want me as the father of their baby?”

John chuckled. “I seem to recall similar words in a different context when we first met. What was it you said? ‘Who’d want me for a flatmate?’”

“Are you trying to say you’d want me as the father of your baby?” Sherlock asked.

“If you hadn’t had asked me, I...I’m sure I would’ve asked you,” John answered with a small nod. “I had made up my mind to say yes the same day you asked me, I just...I Just had to be certain you were sure.”

Sherlock found himself at a loss for words as he looked at John. John gave his hand a small squeeze before letting go and starting to stand.

“Get some sleep alright?” John told him as he walked out of the room.

“I love you…” Sherlock whispered to the empty air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I tried to do my best with showing what Sherlock is thinking about.  
> Also fun fact apparently about 1 in 6 people in Britain celebrate Thanksgiving.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If I can solve a murder in seven minutes, I can put together a highchair,” Sherlock told him. He stood and started to pull the box from its place against the wall to the ‘dining room’ and grabbed the knife from the mantle to cut the twine keeping the box closed. 
> 
> They’d agreed upon a polished dark wood high chair with soft padded on the arms, and black and white polka dotted cushions. It’d only made sense to get one that they’d be able to use for their baby once they would be of age to use it. 
> 
> Sherlock set the cardboard aside and picked up the small booklet that was to serve as the instructions. He looked up as John walked into the room with a fresh cup of tea and took a seat in his chair, which gave him an ample view of Sherlock and the many pieces that would, hopefully, become a highchair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should also mention because I didn't last time, Lestrade and Mycroft are of course acting like they didn't know about the baby the entire time, and I know there's going to be a minor inconsistency, just a fair warning for those who notice it.

**Chapter 10:**

The next couple weeks passed by in a blur of sending out invitations, picking up groceries,  finding decorations, decorating, (if Sherlock had to hang one more piece or Garland  _ he’d  _ be the next man on trial for murder) two cases and Sherlock trying to work up the nerve to tell John he loved him  _ one hundred and forty-six times _ ...not that he was keeping track or anything. 

Sherlock didn’t need to look at the clock to know it was a quarter past seven as he laid in bed. He knew by the sound of John’s quick footsteps, and the closing of the bathroom door.  He could do it now. Just, walk into the bathroom, and say ‘John. I love you.’ Not exactly romantic though…

Sherlock pulled a pillow over his face. 

_ One hundred and forty-seven times _ . 

His phone chimed bringing him out of his thoughts and sat up as he felt around for the device. He let go of the pillow and looked over the text messages. 

**Happy Thanksgiving**

**Looking forward to dinner - MH**

_ Thanksgiving...  _

Oh, that one had crept up on them rather quietly hadn’t it. Sherlock pulled on his dressing gown as he got out of bed, he’d wait until it was close to dinner before changing. 

“Toast?” Sherlock asked as he opened the bathroom door and poked his head inside. 

“Ta…” John gave him a tired smile. 

_ One hundred and forty-eight _ …

Sherlock shut the door with a soft click and flipped the switch on the kettle as he dropped two pieces of bread into the toaster. The counters were pre-lined with everything they’d need to finish getting dinner ready. 

They’d started the night before following his return from a level eight case that’d taken him three days to solve, and still going from the post case adrenaline, they’d gotten the bulk of the smaller dishes prepared so all they’d have to do is put them in the oven. 

The turkey was due to go in first. On the smaller side, after the idea of eating turkey made John turn three shades of green. It also brought up a thought that’d been in the back of Sherlock’s mind for the last week and a half now with each trip to the store. 

“We should get a car,” Sherlock said as John stepped out of the bathroom. 

“A car…?” John asked. “What for?” 

“It’d be to hard get a baby around without a car, can you imagine trying to get a baby carrier in and out of a cab?” Sherlock asked. 

“Well...that is a fair point,” John nodded as he sat down. “Can we even afford a car though?” 

“I’ve a pretty decent nest egg saved up from cases,” Sherlock answered. “And I’ve already found a few suitable models.” 

“How much thought have you put into this?” John asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“I hadn’t thought about it until last week, mainly with all the trips to the store and whatnot,” Sherlock answered as he set down their tea, and then a plate of toast for John. “But we don’t have to talk about it now. Turkey needs to go into the oven, and I need to take those pies down to Mrs. Hudson and ask if we can use her oven.” 

“You were supposed to ask her a couple days ago,” John told him. 

“Yes, well, murder got in the way of that,” Sherlock shrugged. 

_ One hundred and forty-nine. _

“You can’t blame everything on murder,” John pointed out. He leaned back in his seat as he drank his tea and Sherlock could see the small outline of his stomach. 

“She won’t be up for a couple hours still, might as well put the high chair together,” John added breaking his thoughts. 

Sherlock flicked his gaze to the box leaned against the hall wall. 

“You want me to do it?” John asked. There was a hint of teasing in his voice as he followed Sherlock’s gaze. 

“If I can solve a murder in seven minutes, I can put together a highchair,” Sherlock told him. He stood and started to pull the box from its place against the wall to the ‘dining room’ and grabbed the knife from the mantle to cut the twine keeping the box closed. 

They’d agreed upon a polished dark wood high chair with soft padded on the arms, and black and white polka dotted cushions. It’d only made sense to get one that they’d be able to use for their baby once they would be of age to use it. 

Sherlock set the cardboard aside and picked up the small booklet that was to serve as the instructions. He looked up as John walked into the room with a fresh cup of tea and took a seat in his chair, which gave him an ample view of Sherlock and the many pieces that would, hopefully, become a highchair. 

_ One hundred and fifty times. _

Not that he was counting. 

It was a little after eleven when Sherlock took a step back, hands on his hips grinning after the satisfying click of the tray being locked into place. 

“Finally finished are you?” John asked from the kitchen. 

“Very funny,” Sherlock deadpanned. 

John just smiled. “Wonderful job Sherlock, you put together the highchair and even used all the pieces, quite a feat. Now if you don’t mind, pies.” 

Sherlock walked to the kitchen and picked up the two pies sitting on the kitchen table, pumpkin and peppermint brownie. Mrs. Hudson, after giving Sherlock a short lecture about waiting till the last minute, allowed the use of her oven and with the promise of sherry, Sherlock was out the door and back upstairs. 

“John? Are you alright?” Sherlock walked over and placed his hand on John’s back, as the man bent over to the kitchen sink with his elbows braced on the edge. 

“Brussel sprouts,” John answered. “The smell…” He motioned to the pot on the stove. 

“Ah…” Sherlock nodded in understanding. “We’ll just say there was a little...accident.” 

“An accident…?” John glanced up at him. 

“A terrible, completely out of your hands, accident,” Sherlock answered as he dropped his hand and reached for the oven mitts.

“What sort of accident?” John asked. 

Sherlock was sorely tempted to throw the pot out of the window. “Don’t suppose we could flush them down the toilet…” 

John laughed. “And risk it getting clogged?...Just drain the water and we’ll bin them. But let me open a few windows first to air out the smell.” 

Sherlock nodded and waited while John opened a couple windows, the cold air made Sherlock’s skin prickle but it did divert some of the smell as Sherlock drained the water off of the brussel sprouts and then dumped them into the trash. 

“So? What sort of accident was that?” John asked as he leaned against the counter. 

“I forgot to buy them,” Sherlock answered. “I’ve told you before I can’t be trusted when it comes to food shopping.” 

“Oh yes, you’re utterly hopeless at it,” John chuckled. 

_ One hundred and fifty-one... _ _ ” _

* * *

 

"Everything just looks fantastic!” Mrs. Hudson complimented as they all sat around the table.

“I can't take all the credit, John did most of the cooking,” Sherlock replied. “I merely made sure to stay out of the way and decorated.” 

“It looks lovely,” Molly smiled. “Should get you to decorate Bart's for Christmas.”

Sherlock grimaced at the idea. “I'll pass…but, in any case, research shows that before the meal, everyone goes around the table and usually says one or two things they're thankful for. I don't know why, but who knows why Americans do anything these days. Molly, why don't you start us off.”

“Oh, um alright then,” she took a minute to think before smiling again. “I am thankful for my new lab assignment, as if it weren't for her I would not be able to make it to dinner.” 

“I’m thankful for family,” Lestrade smiled as he reached over and took Mycroft's hand and kissed Micah’s cheek. 

Sherlock started to roll his eyes but a pointed look from John made him stop. 

“My sentiments exactly,” Mycroft agreed. 

“I'm thankful for my health,” Mrs. Hudson smiled. “Lord knows having Sherlock for a tenant keeps one on their toes.” 

“Sherlock?” Molly asked tentatively. “It's your turn.”

“Right, of course,” Sherlock nodded and sat up in his seat. “Right, uh, I am thankful for...all of you. All of us, being here together.”

“I'm going to have to piggyback off of Mrs. Hudson’s,” John chuckled. “And who knows, maybe we’ll do this again next year.”

“Are you not drinking John?” Molly ask as everyone began helping themselves to food. 

“Oh,” John glanced at Sherlock. 

Sherlock gave him a look as if to say 'now is as good a time as any’. 

“No, I’m afraid I won't be drinking for awhile,” John answered. “Suppose, it’s good that everyone’s all here for this, uh...Sherlock and I are having a baby together. And we’ve just hit the two and a half month mark.” 

Mrs. Hudson was the first to get out her chair and come around the table to hug them. “Oh, congratulations you two. Between you and me I just thought John had gained a couple more stones than usual but a baby! Oh it’ll be so nice to have another baby around.” 

“It will be nice for Micah to have a little playmate,” Mycroft raised his glass. “Congratulations dear brother, and to you Dr. Watson.” 

“You’re going to make excellent parents,” Molly smiled. “I’m happy for you two.” 

“We hadn’t...actually discussed it yet, but I’m going to assume I speak for both of us, when I say we’d really like for you to be the godmother,” Sherlock told her. 

“I’d love too,” Molly used her napkin to dab her eyes and gave John a side hug. 

“Right…” Greg cleared his throat. “Be a shame to let all this food get cold I should think. See what all the fuss is about this American holiday.” 

Mrs. Hudson gave them each other hug before taking her seat again and conversation stalled as everyone enjoyed the meal. Even Sherlock helped himself to a plate of seconds. 

“I think Micah’s a fan of the cranberry sauce,” Lestrade chuckled as he wiped some sauce from the child’s chin. 

“This turkey is exquisite,” Mycroft complemented. “And the stuffing. It tastes just like our mother’s.” 

“It is mummy’s recipe,” Sherlock grinned gave his brother a smug smile. 

“Gregory, I believe next year we shall be the ones to host this holiday,” Mycroft said before he ate another piece of turkey.

* * *

 

“Have you told him yet?” 

“Told who what?” Sherlock asked as he set another plate to dry in the dishrack. 

“John that you love him,” Molly answered. 

Sherlock looked up to speak, but she just gave him a soft smile. “Took you long enough to realize it you know. Thought I was going to have to talk some sense into you.” 

“I’ve tried...but just saying casually, it somehow seems wrong,” Sherlock sighed and turned back to the dishes. “What if he doesn’t feel the same way?” 

“Speaking from personal experience,” Molly put her hand on his arm. “I find that not saying anything, feels a lot worse than saying something.” 

“Molly…” 

She leaned up and kissed his cheek. “I really am happy for you Sherlock, you deserve each other. In any capacity.” 

“Thank you Molly…” he gave her a small smile. “And I will...think on your words of wisdom.” 

“I’m off then, think I’ll stop by the lab and see how the assistant did while I was gone,” she took a step back. 

“I believe that box there is yours,” Sherlock said with an incline of his head towards one of the medium sized boxes on the table. 

She picked up the box of leftover’s and Sherlock heard her and John exchange another bout of congratulations and goodbye before the door shut. 

“Alone at last,” John sighed as he set down some plates on the kitchen table. “Is it disgusting that I still want to eat?”

Sherlock held up to clean forks as he turned to face John. “I was thinking we could start with the stuffing.” 

“Oh, you brilliant man,” John smiled as they made their way back to the table. The plates had been cleared once the mean itself had finished, and despite everyone taking home leftovers, it was going to be tricky maneuvering the rest into the fridge. 

“That was sweet of you, asking Molly to be godmother,” John said after a bite of stuffing. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” Sherlock replied. 

“Of course not,” John told him. “I think Molly as godmother is perfect. Mycroft and Lestrade could be godfather’s.” 

“And...your sister?” Sherlock asked carefully. 

John shrugged. “Left her a voicemail earlier, hasn’t responded yet though. Things are still a bit tense you know.” 

Sherlock nodded and used his fork to grab a few pieces of turkey. He was sorely tempted to unbuckle his pants now that it was just the two of them. If only to alieve the stuffed feeling in his gut. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat so much in one sitting,” John chuckled. “I think you’ve got a bit of a food baby there.” 

Sherlock blushed a little embarrassed and swallowed his current mouthful. “Yes well...this is more than enough to keep me going for at least a few days, so don’t get used to it.” 

_One hundred and fifty-two…_

“John...there’s something you should know,” Sherlock set down his fork. 

“Everything alright?” John asked with a bit of concern in his voice. 

“I…I just wanted to say that I’m thankful to have you in my life,” Sherlock answered after a beat. “No, thankful is the wrong word. I’m grateful to have you in my life, I can honestly say I may not be here if it weren’t for you. Don’t know what I’d do without my trusty doctor.” 

“Course you’d be here today,” John nudged his foot with his own. “You’re the great Sherlock Holmes.” 

“No...no, if it wasn’t for you, I’d surely be dead by now,” Sherlock shook his head. “Either for being too rash, or insulting the wrong person at the wrong time.” 

“Don’t say things like that Sherlock,” John scolded gently. “What’s got you thinking such morbid thoughts?” 

_ I love you. I love you. I love you I love you I love you!  _ Sherlock shrugged. “Must be the wine Mycroft brought, probably laced it with sentimentality.  _ Coward.  _

“Well try to think happy thoughts instead,” John told him. “Like Mycroft failing to exceed our excellent Thanksgiving next year.” 

Sherlock chuckled. “That is a nice thought, could you imagine him trying to stuff a turkey?” 

John snorted. “Probably get Greg to do it.” 

Sherlock nodded in agreement. 

“Happy Thanksgiving Sherlock.” 

“Happy Thanksgiving John.” 

****  
  



	11. Chapter 11:

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “John, it’s Sherlock...obviously.” He sounded a bit winded as if he’d been running a marathon. 
> 
> “What happened to your phone?” John asked. He sat up a little from his spot on the couch. 
> 
> “It got damaged first day here. Mycroft is taking his sweet time to replace it,” Sherlock answered with a huff. “I’ve had to borrow the phone from a nearby hotel since it’s been a few days…” 
> 
> “Uh yeah...how’s the case you’re not supposed to talk about?” John asked. 
> 
> This felt so...formal for some reason. 
> 
> “Dull,” Sherlock answered. “What was assumed to be a level nine was a disappointment. I’ve downgraded it to a level seven.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To answer any questions, Sherlock's counting the number of times he tried to tell John how much he loved him, so each number is a moment he thought about it, as in at one hundred and forty-seven he thought about just going into the bathroom and telling John he loved him. 
> 
> Anywho! 
> 
> Enjoy :)

**Chapter 11**

John set his empty glass of water on the kitchen table as he walked out of the bathroom and frowned when he saw an envelope sitting front and center with his name in Sherlock’s handwriting. He pulled out a chair and sat down before reaching for it and flipping it open. 

_ John,  _

_ Now before you get all alarmed and start thinking I’ve run out on you, take a deep breath and keep reading. Mycroft called late last night with what appears to be a level nine case and for lack of better word, ordered me to get on a plane to Italy. Sadly, I don’t think you’ll be able to write about this case on your blog given what Mycroft explained to me as I packed.  _

_ I thought this was a good excuse to write you this letter because no matter how many times I try to tell you face to face I get scared. Me? Scared. I want to laugh at the statement but it’s true.  _

_ John.  _

_ I love you.  _

John lowered the letter and let the three words sink in.  _ I love you.  _ John pinches himself and winced. Not dreaming then. That’s...that was good. Was it good? He looked back at the letter. 

_ I love you. No, you’re not dreaming, please tell me you didn’t pinch yourself. I can see it now.  _

John rolled his eyes. “Prick…” 

_ For weeks I’ve tried to find the right moment to tell you. One hundred and eighty-seven times to be exact. Every moment seemed too mundane, to...normal, and we don’t do things the normal way do we John?  _ _~~I think~~ …  _ _ I know that I have always loved you, but I told myself I was married to the Work. Love was merely a distraction, and it is a distraction. But, it’s a wonderful, intoxicating distraction.   _

_ Perhaps on some level that is why I asked you to have a baby with me. Because I’d be loving a part of you, and you’d be loving a part of me, but I don’t want just a part of you John. I want all of you… _

_ I don’t think this case is going to last for more than a few days, a week at most, I’ve already got  _ _ t ~~en ideas~~ ,  _ _ Eleven ideas, I’ll understand if you don’t return my feelings, I know I’m not an easy man to love, nor am I an easy man to get along with, having been told numerous times I’m heartless, a psychopath, socially uncouth, and I really am honestly amazed that you’ve lasted as long as you have, and it still blows my mind (which as you know is hard to do) that you agreed to raise a child with me. Me.  _

_ I’ll have to stop here before I run out of paper and go onto a cocktail napkin.  _

_ I love you.  _

_ S- _

* * *

 

John looked at the leaned back on the couch with a cup of tea. He’d read it more than a dozen times over the past few days. He could probably quote it by now if asked. 

William Sherlock Scott Holmes love him.  _ Him.  _

John got butterflies just thinking about it, but the nagging voice in the back of his head always popped up with the question he didn’t know if he had an answer to. Did he love Sherlock? He cared about Sherlock and his well being. He enjoyed Sherlock’s company and being around the man made him happy, but did that equal to love? 

He sighed as he felt his phone buzz in his pocket and pulled it out. He frowned not recognizing the number and pressed the green button. 

“Hello?”

“John, it’s Sherlock...obviously.” He sounded a bit winded as if he’d been running a marathon. 

“What happened to your phone?” John asked. He sat up a little from his spot on the couch. 

“It got damaged first day here. Mycroft is taking his sweet time to replace it,” Sherlock answered with a huff. “I’ve had to borrow the phone from a nearby hotel since it’s been a few days…” 

“Uh yeah...how’s the case you’re not supposed to talk about?” John asked. 

“Dull,” Sherlock answered. “What was assumed to be a level nine was a disappointment. I’ve downgraded it to a level seven.” 

There was a clinking sound on the other end of the line and John heard Sherlock’s muffed 'Thank you', must’ve covered the mouthpiece of the phone then. 

“I thought I’d let you know that I should be back tomorrow,” Sherlock said once he was back on the line. 

_ Tomorrow… _

“Late?” John asked. 

“Morning,” Sherlock answered. “Possibly mid-morning. I’m supposed to be meeting with the local police in an hour.” 

John nodded only half listening. 

That gave John a day. He knew Sherlock would want an answer. Honestly, he wanted an answer. 

Sherlock silence on the other end of the line tuned John back into the conversation. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked after another pause. 

“Oh, fine, little tired,” John answered. “Actually...I didn’t go to work today.” 

“What? Why not?” Sherlock asked. 

“Just a little cramping, it’s normal,” John answered. 

“Tell me if it gets worse alright?” Sherlock told him. 

John smiled at the obvious concern Sherlock was trying to keep subtle. “I will. Just, don’t get yourself thrown into an Italian jail cell alright?” 

“Trust me, I don’t plan to,” Sherlock replied. “I’ll let you know when I’ve got a new phone...have a good night John.”

“Be careful Sherlock,” John replied. 

He hung up after the line clicked and put the phone aside. He took the letter out of his pocket and set it on the kitchen table as he went about making dinner. The rest of the evening was rather uneventful. He’d made a simple dish of vegetables and pasta in an effort to eat more healthier. He gained over two stones in the last few days, though he didn’t think he’d been eating that much.  Sherlock had finished the rest of their leftovers from Thanksgiving the night before he’d left for the case in Italy…

“Should’ve asked him if he’d been eating…” John sighed as he sat on the couch with his cup of tea and the remote. He flipped through the channel’s until he landed on an old black and white movie and settled in for the evening.

* * *

 

John jerked awake and sat up wincing as his back protested at the sudden movement. He pressed the heel of his hands to his eyes and was not too surprised to feel them wet with tears. Oh, that dream...that dream had been too real for comfort. 

He gave an involuntary shudder and reached for his phone where it lay on the coffee table and winced at the bright light as he noticed a new text. 

**New phone - SH**

John’s finger hovered over the green phone icon and brought the phone to his ear after his pressed it and bit his lip. 

“ _ Hello, you’ve reached Sherlock Holmes. If it’s urgent text me, if not leave a message and I’ll get to it at some point.”  _

John took a deep breath. “Hey...uh, you’re probably still at the station or sleep or...something. I don’t know why I called actually. Uh yeah, just, just forget I called.” 

He hung up and tossed the phone onto the couch next to him and dropped his head into his hands. The dream it seemed did not want to leave his mind just yet. He picked up his empty teacup and set it in the sink to be washed later as he made his way to the bathroom and put the stopper in the drain before starting to run some water in the bathtub. 

He went upstairs for another set of clothes and grabbed another towel to use as a makeshift pillow, and returned to the bathroom. He added a bit of lavender to the water and let the water cool a little as he undressed and let out a soft sigh as he sank into the water. 

He leaned back so his head rests on the rolled up towel and closed his eyes. He laced his fingers over his stomach and took a few calming breaths as he willed the dream to leave his mind. 

The next time he opened his eyes, there was just the barest hint of light streaming into the bathroom through the window and -

“Sherlock?” John sat up surprised and a little water sloshed over the side of the tub. He was glad he’d pulled part of the shower curtain closed. 

“Sorry...I didn’t mean to startle you,” Sherlock apologized. “I just...well I tried calling you back and when you didn’t answer I...panicked.” 

“Panicked?” John frowned a little and his eyes widened slightly. “Oh...Oh god.” He leaned forward a little and that’s when he noticed the water was no longer hot, but a lukewarm. How long had he been in there?

“At least half an hour,” Sherlock’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Going by the temperature of the water….” 

“Oh...I should uh...get out then…” John gripped the sides of the tub and started to stand up. 

Sherlock followed suit and offered him a large towel to dry off with. John carefully stepped out of the tub and dried off as best he could, Sherlock turned so his back was to him and waited while John pulled on a pair of boxers and then his robe. 

“When did you get back?” John asked once he’d tied the belt on his robe. 

“Five minutes ago,” Sherlock answered. “I was just getting off the plane when you called, hadn’t turned my phone on yet...are you alright? You sounded...scared…” 

“It’s stupid…” John answered. 

“John,” Sherlock turned to face him. 

He looked like crap, for a lack of a better word. Dark bags under his eyes, he didn’t have on his suit jacket and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows. 

“Bad dream…” John finally answered. He dragged a hand through his hair. 

“The war?” he asked. 

John shook his head. “I...I dreamt that you didn’t come back…” his voice cracked on the last word and he willed himself not to start crying. Hormones be damned. “And then I...I dreamt that when you  _ did _ you were...you were in a body bag.” 

“Oh John,” Sherlock had his arms wrapped around him in a matter of seconds, a hand pressed to the back of his head gently stroking. “Now you know I’ll always come back John. You’re stuck with me you know.” 

“But what if you don’t?” John pressed his face into Sherlock’s chest. “There have been so many close calls Sherlock, what if...what if one day I’m not there to help you? What if I can’t protect you? I can’t, I can’t lose you Sherlock...I don’t what I’d do, what  _ we’d  _ do without you. I was terrified when I hadn’t heard from you.” 

“I’m sorry, I know I should’ve called you sooner,” Sherlock apologized. “I was an idiot for not.” 

“Yes…” John sniffed a bit. “Ginormous idiot...but you’re  _ my  _ idiot.” 

Sherlock let out a soft chuckle. “Yes John, all yours.” He rubbed John’s back a few more times before pulling away. 

John pulled back just enough to look up at him. Kissing Sherlock like this was...not what John was expecting if he was being honest. 

They’d kissed before, it was bound to happen with the amount of time they’d had sex together, but those times had been kisses in the throes of sex. Hardly kisses really. 

But here, in the middle of the bathroom, at some god-awful hour in the morning, Sherlock’s chapped lips pressed against his own, it felt more intimate than anything they’d ever done. He loathed to pull away but he also enjoyed the ability to breathe. 

“John…” Sherlock looked uncertain. 

“You are my idiot,” John reached up and brushed a stray curl out of Sherlock’s face, “and I...I love you Sherlock.” 

Sherlock swallowed. “Really?” 

John nodded. “I’ve always loved you Sherlock, I thought...I thought it was just the way friends love another friend but you’re not just another friend to me Sherlock. And just the thought of losing you...the thought of not telling you how I feel if I were, just kills me. I don’t want to lose you Sherlock.” 

“I don’t want to lose you either John,” Sherlock cupped his cheek with the one hand, the other still placed on his lower back, rubbing soothing circles. “I am so sorry for not calling you the second I got to a phone. I won’t do it again. Promise.” 

“You better not,” John told him. “Or I will hunt you down if I have to.” 

“I don’t doubt it for a second,” Sherlock replied as he leaned down to kiss him again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> p.s this is currently still unbeta'd


	12. Chapter 12:

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Will you...will you say it again?” Sherlock asked. “Please?” 
> 
> “I love you Sherlock,” John pulled him down for a kiss and smiled more as Sherlock made a pleased sound in the back of his throat as they kissed. 
> 
> He rolled them so he was on his back with Sherlock on top of him, knees on either side his thighs with his weight braced on his elbow’s. John could feel Sherlock’s erection pressing into his thigh and reached down with his free hand to slip into the other man’s briefs. He shuddered and moaned as he tried to press into John’s hand. 
> 
> Sherlock nearly growled as his phone began vibrating on the table and rolled over to grab it bringing John with him. John wrapped an arm around Sherlock’s torso and laid his head on Sherlock’s chest. He let one hand trail downwards and just let it rest on the waistline of his briefs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now that the boys have shared their feelings for each other, we can get to the good stuff!

**Chapter 12:**

_ “ _ I love you…” Sherlock pressed another feather-light kiss to the nape of John’s neck. 

John smiled as another kiss soon followed. After their little moment in the bathroom, Sherlock told John to go lay down in his, no  _ their  _ room. Sherlock had said  _ their room  _ and John could only tell himself not to melt at the clear devotion in those ever-changing eyes and after shedding his robe and pulling on a t-shirt, he crawled under the thick comforter that smelled like Sherlock. 

He’d been in a light sleep, light enough to hear Sherlock drain the tub and then start the shower, light enough to hear him slip into the room, rummage for some clothes, curse as he stubbed his toe on the way out and light enough to then hear Sherlock tear into Mycroft. In French no less! 

John would have felt bad for the elder Holmes if he didn't drag his feet when it came to getting Sherlock a replacement phone. 

It was another half hour before Sherlock came back and joined him in bed. He plastered himself to John’s back and that's how they both fell asleep. And now he was waking up to neck kisses and a very touchy Sherlock. 

“When did you know?” John asked. 

“Know what?” Sherlock drew nonsense patterns on John’s stomach as he pressed another kiss to John's neck. 

“That you loved me?” John asked. 

Sherlock pulled back just enough to look at him. Eyes calculating. Deducing. 

“You mean why.” Sherlock said after a moment. 

“I mean both…” John replied. 

Sherlock bit his lip and rest his chin on John’s shoulder. 

“I knew I loved you when you were captured by the Chinese gang,” Sherlock answered. “When you went on that date with Sarah...I admit it's part of the reason I ordered a third ticket.”

“That long?” John asked. 

Sherlock nodded. 

“Even after meeting The Woman?” John didn't know what possessed him to ask. 

“Even after,” Sherlock answered. “The things I...feel for her, are nothing compared to how I feel about you, John. You are so strong and capable. You’re like a saint John. I love the way you carry yourself, the compassion you have for other people. You’re so handsome and fit…” 

John snorted. “Used to be fit…” he pointed out. 

“I think,” Sherlock sat up more as his hand stopped drawing patterns and laid flat on his stomach. “That you’re even more attractive like this. Beautiful really.” 

John blushed a little. “You need to warn me when  you start talking like that…” 

“Oh?” a small smirk tugged at the corner of Sherlock’s lips. “Why?” 

“You know why,” John chuckled and reached up to cup the back of Sherlock’s head. “Though I suppose it’s one of the reasons why I love you, so I can’t complain.” 

Sherlock swallowed. “Really?” 

John nodded. “I can’t pinpoint the exact moment that I fell in love with you Sherlock, I think it just happened you know. I told myself it wouldn’t work because you’re married to the Work, but I found myself falling in love with you anyway.” He smiled a bit. “I love you Sherlock, the high functioning sociopath man you claim to be, and the sweet man that you are.” 

“Will you...will you say it again?” Sherlock asked. “Please?” 

“I love you Sherlock,” John pulled him down for a kiss and smiled more as Sherlock made a pleased sound in the back of his throat as they kissed. 

He rolled them so he was on his back with Sherlock on top of him, knees on either side his thighs with his weight braced on his elbow’s. John could feel Sherlock’s erection pressing into his thigh and reached down with his free hand to slip into the other man’s briefs. He shuddered and moaned as he tried to press into John’s hand. 

Sherlock nearly growled as his phone began vibrating on the table and rolled over to grab it bringing John with him. John wrapped an arm around Sherlock’s torso and laid his head on Sherlock’s chest. He let one hand trail downwards and just let it rest on the waistline of his briefs. 

“What?” Sherlock said in a clipped tone. “I’m a bit busy…” he snorted. “Hardly worth getting out the warm comforts of bed.” He looked down at John with a soft smile. “Fine...fine...Just don’t let anyone touch it.” He hung up and set the phone down. 

“Lestrade?” John asked. 

“Apparently he heard about just how long I’d been without a cell phone while in Italy. Promised me first access to the crime scene,  _ before  _ Anderson and half an hour alone,” Sherlock answered. 

John raised an eyebrow. “Half an hour?” 

Sherlock nodded. “Far too tempting to say no too…” 

“I understand,” John nodded. 

“Would you...like to come with me?” Sherlock asked as he started to get out of bed. “Unless you’ve got to work.” 

“I’ve got the weekend off,” John answered. “Switched my schedule around a couple weeks after we found out so I don’t get weekend shifts anymore.” 

“You never said,” Sherlock pointed out. 

John chuckled as he sat up. “Actually I did, but I didn’t expect you to remember. I’d enjoy going with you, been getting a bit stir crazy lately. Almost took a page out of your book and started to shoot the wall.” 

“Did you?” Sherlock asked. 

“No,” John chuckled as he got out of bed. 

He stopped by the bathroom Before going upstairs to change. He pulled on one of his maroon colored knit jumpers over a fresh t-shirt. It was more of a tighter fit than the one of his newer ones and paired it with one of his newer pairs of pants. 

“John, are you ready? Lestrade just texted he’s getting…” 

Sherlock trailed off as John stepped into the living room. 

“What?” John fiddled with the ends of his scarf. 

“Nothing just...are you sure you want to wear that?” Sherlock asked. “People are going to notice you know…” 

“I know,” John answered as he walked over. “But, you’re going to be there too right?” 

“I was just going to say it’ll be very hard to concentrate while you’re standing there, with our child growing inside you…” Sherlock chuckled. “And now that I’m allowed to kiss you, all bets are off.” 

“Bit possessive are ya?” John said as he wrapped his scarf around his neck. 

Sherlock hooked his fingers in the belt loops of John’s jeans as he stepped closer. “You aren’t wrong though, I’ll be there with you. Remember what I said last night? You’re stuck with me John.” 

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” John smiled as he smoothed down the lapels of Sherlock’s jacket. “I could be stuck with a lot worse...We should go before Lestrade has to let Anderson in.” 

Sherlock pulled a face. “You’re right...but later…” he leaned in and gave John another kiss that pulled a low moan from John’s throat. “We’re going to finish what we started.”

* * *

 

“Took you long along enough,” Lestrade said as he jogged over to John and Sherlock. “I’ve got Anderson nearly foaming at the mouth.” 

“Sorry, sorry that’d be my fault,” John apologized. “Got hit with a bit of morning sickness and Sherlock wanted to wait until it’d pass.” 

“You uh, you sure you wanna go in there John?” Lestrade asked. “Might be uh...bit sensitive for you.” 

“Lestrade, I’m a doctor,” John reminded him. “And I’ve been in the military. I can handle a crime scene.” 

“Alright then,” Lestrade nodded and motioned for them to follow. “Remember, you get a half hour. Nothing more and nothing less. And put these on.” He held out a pair of plastic shoe covers. “Trust me.” 

“Dr. Watson, thought you finally got some sense knocked into your head,” Donavon crossed her arms over her chest as they approached. “Been awhile since you’ve joined the freak.” 

“John,” Sherlock glanced back at him from where he stood in the doorway of the small house that was the crime scene. 

“Right, one little request,” John said as he turned to face her. “His name is Sherlock. I know it’s a two syllable word, and a little harder than ‘freak’ but it’s  _ his _ name. Not to mention he is the man who’s saved your ass from getting canned, and he’s not even getting paid for it. Now, Sherlock might not react to your words, but I am pregnant and hormonal and I will not listen to you insult the father of my child. Are we clear? Don’t speak, just nod.” 

Donavon gave a short nod and John turned on his heel to join Sherlock inside the house. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Sherlock said once Lestrade had shut the door behind them. 

“Hormones,” John shrugged a little. 

Sherlock didn’t say anything but he gave John a small smile. The scene wasn’t as bad as John thought it was going to be. It was still bad though. 

“Any ideas?” Lestrade asked as Sherlock carefully picked his way over the blood on the floor to the first body. 

“Where’s the third body?” Sherlock asked. 

“Third body?” Lestrade frowned. “There’s only two.” 

“No, there’s three,” Sherlock answered. “Three different footsteps. Size 6 and a half,” he pointed to the woman’s body face down on the floor, “Size 10,” he pointed turned and pointed to the man slumped over against the back wall, “and a nice sized 8 and a half.” He finished. “But there are only two bodies,” Sherlock continued. “No doubt a murder-suicide, at least that’s what it’s supposed to look like, but he didn’t kill himself.” 

He knelt down next to the man as he pulled on a pair of gloves and picked up the hand that had been wrapped around the gun. 

“John, I’m sure you’ve seen your fair share of headshot wounds,” Sherlock said. “How likely is it for someone to shoot themselves point blank in the back of the head?” 

“I don’t think you actually can shoot yourself in the back of the head,” John answered. “Not if you had a mirror, and were somehow very flexible or a contortionist.” 

“Exactly,” Sherlock agreed. “You’re looking for another woman. Size eight and a half shoe, wears,” he leaned in and sniffed the man’s shirt. “Vera Wang perfume going by the horrible stench that still clings to his shirt. No doubt still close by, remorseful and still wearing the bloody clothes.” 

“How the hell did you get all that?” John asked. 

Sherlock stood up with a slip of bloody paper between his fingers. “Because it wasn’t supposed to happen this way.” He held the paper out to Lestrade. “She couldn’t have gone further than a five-block radius, or perhaps even to her own home. She wants to be found.” 

Sherlock pulled off the plastic gloves with a snap and tossed them into the trashcan by the couch. “Will that be all?” 

“Uh yeah...” Lestrade nodded as he looked at the note. “Yeah, I’ll give you a call if I need anything.” 

Sherlock grabbed John’s hand and led him out of the house. John leaned against Sherlock as he took off the plastic shoe covers and they tossed them in the trash before making their way to the street. 

“How’d you know it wasn’t supposed to go that way?” John asked as they rode the cab back home. “And how do you note she’d want to be caught?” 

“Her note,” Sherlock answered. “On the front it ‘I’m sorry,’ and he was shot in the back of the head though propped up to look like he’d shot himself after realizing he killed his wife.” 

“Yes, but how did you know she wanted to be caught?” John asked. “Anyone could kill someone and leave a note to say ‘I’m sorry,’ and still not want to be caught.” 

“If you  _ really  _ loved someone, would you be able to look them in the eye while you killed them?” Sherlock asked. “'But how did I know she really loved him?' She killed his wife, she was the one keeping them apart, so kill the wife, wait for the husband to come home and share the good news, only she finds out he doesn’t want to be with her, in fact, he probably thinks she’s crazy and he tries to end things, but she kills him instead and makes it look like a murder-suicide. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was the one who called the cops.” 

“I wish I’d gone into Neuroscience,” John sighed as he smiled at Sherlock. 

“Why?” Sherlock asked. 

“So I could study how your brain works,” John answered. “I want to know what goes on in that beautiful mind of yours.” 

Sherlock blushed a little and brought John’s hand up to kiss his knuckles. “There are ways to remedy that you know.” 

“Oh?” John asked. 

Sherlock nodded as he leaned in his close and kissed the shell of his ear. “Right now, I’m thinking about how much I can’t wait till we get home so I can get you back into bed.” 

“Right, how much do you think it’ll cost to get him to drive faster?” John asked. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I intended some sexy times for this chapter but it didn't turn out that way, next one though I promise :)


	13. Chapter 13:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy you guys are all enjoying this story :)   
> I've got two chaptes for you then there's gonna probably be a little pause in updates, I've got finals in a week and a half and I need to write a policy memo for class, but we'll see what happens.   
> As always please enjoy!

**Chapter 13:**

“Oh John, look at you,” Mrs. Holmes smiled as she gave him a hug. “You’re just positively glowing. I hope the ride wasn’t uncomfortable for you.”

“Oh, no, it was just fine,” John assured her as he hugged her back. “We had to stop a couple times along the way but Sherlock was very understanding.”

“Sherlock, you can take your boys things to your room. John you just make yourself comfortable on the couch and I’ll get you a nice cup of tea. Do you take sugar?”

“No-”

“Yes-”

Sherlock blinked and looked John. “Since when do you take sugar in your tea? You always drink tea without sugar…”

“Craving dear,” Mrs. Holmes patted Sherlock’s cheek. “Wouldn’t be surprised, when I was pregnant with you and Myc I started to get cravings around the same time. Your father, bless his heart, had a devil of a time keeping up with it. They come at all hours of the day really.”

“John, are you having these...cravings?” Sherlock asked.

“Just sugar in tea for now,” John answered.

“Come on, bags upstairs Sherlock,” Mrs. Holmes smiled.

“And so it begins,” Sherlock leaned down and kissed John’s cheek and carried their bags upstairs to his room.

John chuckled and after a bit more gentle prodding from Mrs. Holmes he took off his coat and made his way to the sitting room and sat on the couch. Sherlock came down a couple minutes later in a dark green sweater with a pair of dress slacks and barefoot in socks. He set the presents they’d pick up before driving down and John titled his head to the side and bit his lip watching the detective bend over to arrange the boxes.

“See something you like?” Sherlock smirked when he caught John’s eye.

“Don’t know,” John mused.

Sherlock chuckled and sat next to John on the couch. He draped his arm across the back of John’s shoulders and bent his head down to kiss his temple.

“Maybe later we could slip off?” Sherlock offered. “Call it an early night? Mycroft and Lestrade will be here just before dinner with Micah which means she’ll have her focus on him.”

“Sounds like an excellent idea,” John nodded. “It was a long drive.” He feigned a yawn and laughed at Sherlock’s frown. “I’m just teasing love. Believe me, it’s hard enough keeping my hands off of you right now. I am craving more than just sugar in my tea.”

“They better get here soon,” Sherlock mumbled.

John smiled and kissed his cheek as Mrs. Holmes walked back into the living room with a tray of tea. Sherlock quickly stood and took the tray setting it on the coffee table between them.

“Have the two of you thought about another baby after this one?” Mrs. Holmes asked as he sat down.

“Mummy...we haven’t even had our first yet,” Sherlock pointed out as he fixed their tea. “And we hadn’t discussed it.” He sat back down with his own cup of tea once the others had been passed out and put his arm around John.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to another child,” John said as he drank some tea. “If we were to have another baby, I think I’d want them to be close in age.”

“I agree, less likely for them to feel inferior to the other,” Sherlock nodded.

Mrs. Holmes smiled. “Oh goodness, I forgot the biscuits, Sherlock give me a hand in the kitchen?”

“Surely you don’t need my help to get biscuits,” Sherlock pointed out.

Mrs. Holmes gave her son a pointed look and Sherlock set his tea down. “Alright alright…” he stood up and followed his mother into the kitchen.”

“Top shelf dear, had to keep them away from your father,” she told him.

Sherlock reached into the cabinet and took down the cookie jar and set it on the counter. He reached inside and fished out a biscuit as he watched his mother check the food on the stove.

“When do you suppose we’ll be having a wedding?” She asked.

Sherlock coughed and tried not to choke on his biscuit. “Really mummy?” Sherlock coughed. “You couldn’t have waited until after I finished my biscuit?”

“William Sherlock Scott Holmes, your father and I are not getting any younger, now I know you and John love each other dearly and I would like to see both of my son’s married before I’m dead, is that too much to ask?” Mrs. Holmes said as she pointed at him with a spatula.

“No, of course not mummy…” Sherlock looked abashed. “It’s just...we hadn’t really discussed getting married. I never really thought John would want to have a baby with me, let alone considering having a life with me.”

“That man loves you Sherlock, I could see the first time we met him, and you love him,” Mrs. Holmes reached out and took Sherlock’s hand. “I understand if you two think it’s too soon to be talking about it, but I just know you would even happier together.”

“I would be happy in any capacity he decided to have me in,” Sherlock admitted. “But, John may enjoy a wedding…”

Mrs. Holmes chuckled. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself. Go and take those biscuits out to John, your father will be home soon with your brother from the airport and then we can have dinner.”

Sherlock leaned down and kissed his mother’s cheek as he grabbed the jar and walked back out to the living room.

* * *

 

John let out a soft groan as he sank onto the bed and watched Sherlock shut the door behind them. He moved his body upwards until his head was a few inches away from the headboard and wrapped his arms around Sherlock as the man climbed on top of him.

“Alone at least~” Sherlock mused as he leaned down to kiss him.

“Finally,” John sighed as he kissed back and played with the hair on the nape of Sherlock’s neck. He twisted a few curls around his fingers.

“I should hide Mycroft’s laptop for that little stunt he pulled after dinner,” Sherlock slipped his fingers under John’s sweater. “He knew very well what he was doing.”

“Tomorrow,” John told him. “More important things to do than hiding Mycroft’s laptop.”

Sherlock made a noise that John took as agreement and dropped both hands to fiddle with Sherlock’s belt. He could already feel the detective’s erection pressing against his thigh and smiled when Sherlock let out a guttural moan as John wrapped his fingers around his member.

“Too many clothes,” Sherlock panted as he tugged at John’s sweater. “Off off off.”

John raised his arms so Sherlock took to pull his sweater and t-shirt off, both pieces of clothing landed on the floor. Sherlock’s belt joined a second later with a small thud as the buckle hit the wood floor. They each worked their own pants off and John blushed a little under Sherlock’s intense gaze.

“Beautiful,” Sherlock said as he leaned down to kiss him again. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

His hands found John’s chest and he gave a gentle squeeze as he rolled his nipples between his fingers. John gasped and moaned arching into the feeling.

“Sensitive?” Sherlock asked innocently. He leaned down and sucked on one while lightly pinching the other.

John nodded and could only whimper as Sherlock bit down gently. Sherlock reached down with his free hand to give John’s length a few strokes smearing the pre-cum that had gathered as he teased the head. He pulled away after giving some attention to his other nipple and sat up to look down at John’s flushed skin.

“Bloody tease,” John panted.

Sherlock chuckled and grabbed the bottle of lube he’d stashed under the pillow when he’d left their bags in the room and poured a bit into his hand to coat his fingers. He made sure to be quick but thorough with the prep, Sherlock knew for a fact he himself was not going to last very long but he wanted it to be good for John.

“Wait…” John put his hands on Sherlock’s shoulder’s to stop him.

“What’s wrong?” Sherlock asked.

“Nothing,” John assured him. “I just...I wanna be on top.”

“Oh…” Sherlock swallowed and nodded. John riding him would be... _very_ enjoyable. “Do you want me flat or…?”

“Back against the headboard,” John answered.

Sherlock nodded and after throwing some pillows onto the floor and pushing the comforter and top sheet to the foot of the bed, pressed his back against the headboard and got some more lube to slick himself up. The cold was just enough to stem off his climax for a little longer.

“Never did this when we were trying did we?” John chuckled as he got in Sherlock’s lap and started to guide him into his entrance.

“Thought about asking,” Sherlock admitted.

He put his hands on John’s hips for balance and his head fell against the headboard. “Fuck…” He squeezed his eyes shut. If he looked, he’d cum. Simple as that.

John took his time, his fingers flexed as he gripped Sherlock’s shoulders. There’d be bruises and that was a nice little memento.

They were both breathing deeply as John sank down one last time fully seated and Sherlock moaned at the feeling of John’s muscles twitching and clenching around him. He was never going to get tired of being inside John.

“Definitely should’ve asked,” John said after he took a few breaths.

Sherlock’s shifted and John squeezed his biceps again.

“Good?” Sherlock finally looked at John.

“Bloody fantastic,” John huffed out a laugh and gave a slow swivel of his hips. He shuddered and moaned. “So deep…”

“You _feel_ fantastic,” Sherlock reached around to squeeze a bit of John’s ass and helped him raise himself just a little before coming back down and _ohh_ wasn’t that even better than just not moving.

Kissing wasn’t exactly easy with their movements, though Sherlock was very content to just bury his face into John’s neck while John buried his hands into Sherlock’s hair instead.

“Oh g...god!” John had to clamp a hand over his own mouth as Sherlock gave a particularly nice thrust against his sweet spot.

Sherlock smirked and did it again a muffled cry stifled against John’s hand as his pace faltered a bit. John kept one hand in Sherlock’s hair while the other gripped his back tightly content to let Sherlock take over.

John came first coating both of their stomachs and his muffled shout of Sherlock’s name, with Sherlock coming only seconds after, squeezing one of John’s hips hard enough to leave fingerprints. John slumped against Sherlock as Sherlock slumped back against the headboard panting.

Sherlock wrapped his arms around John and after a little maneuvering they were facing each other, John’s leg over Sherlock’s hips and his tucked under the detective’s chin with Sherlock still buried inside of him.

“What are you thinking about?” John asked after a couple minutes of silence.

“Us…” Sherlock answered as he ran his fingers up and down John’s back. “You and me.”

“Good things?” John teased lightly.

“Very good things,” Sherlock chuckled and John pressed a kiss to Sherlock’s jaw. “Like, taking a shower.”

“That is a good thought,” John agreed.

“Why don’t you go start and I’ll join in a moment. I’ve got to at least change the sheets,” Sherlock told him.

They shared a few more lazy kisses before carefully untangling themselves and with John wrapped up in one of Sherlock’s robe, the tartan one, as he walked to the bathroom across the hall, Sherlock made quick work of stripping the bed of the soiled sheet and found a new one in the hall linen closet. He put the dirty one in the hamper and slipped into the bathroom to join John.

“Room for one more?” Sherlock asked as he hung up his robe and climbed into the shower with John.

“For you? Always,” John answered as he turned to face him.

“I love you,” Sherlock sighed into the kiss as he wrapped his arms around John waist.

“I love you too,” John smiled.

They took turns helping each other washed, Sherlock enjoyed the way John massaged his scalp as he washed his hair and showed him as much, which resulted in them staying in the shower until the water threatened to run cold. Sherlock got out first and wrapped a towel around his waist before helping John and both men dried off. Neither bothered with clothes and just pulled the robes back on. Sherlock liked it when John wore his robes, they were obviously too big and John had tied it so the knot was resting just above his stomach.

“Mind if we at least get back into bed first?” John teased as if sensing Sherlock’s thoughts.

Sherlock blushed and nodded as they cleaned up after themselves in the bathroom and made their way back to their bedroom. Sherlock would much rather sleep naked, but it was still cold and the idea of either of them getting sick was not a pleasant thought.

“John…” Sherlock turned around with his hands behind his back after they’d finished changing.

“Hmm?” John raised an eyebrow. “What’s behind you back?”

Sherlock fiddled with it, before finally holding out the small jar. “It’s coconut oil and beeswax based lotion...I read that it can help prevent stretch marks.”

“Really? And when did you read this?” John asked.

“...After you started to show,” Sherlock answered. He toed at the floor with his barefeet. “I was going to give it to you but...I uh was hoping you’d allow me to apply it.”

John was already pulling off his shirt and getting into bed. “And miss those wonderful fingers? Please, apply away.”

Sherlock grinned and quickly joined him in bed as John got comfortable on his back. Sherlock carefully straddled his thighs and scooped out some of the lotion and rubbed it between his hands so it wouldn’t be cold and gently started to massage it into the taut skin.

“Mmm smells nice,” John looked up at Sherlock. “Where’d you find it?”

“I read about it online, but found the lotion at a little apothecary shop during that case with the nun,” Sherlock answered. “I bought it a few weeks after we found out, and I had planned to give it to you when you started to show…”

“Would you have offered to put it on then?” John asked.

Sherlock nodded and got more lotion, he had to be thorough after all and went back to massaging. “It would’ve been the least I could do after everything you have done, what you are doing.” His hands still on the middle of his stomach.

John smiled and reached down to take Sherlock’s hands in one of his own and brought it up to kiss his knuckles.

“Wouldn’t take it back for the world,” he promised.

 


	14. Chapter 14:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised another chapter! Bit more fluff coming your way.   
> Im gonna try and keep updates coming but they might be spotty due to the need to write some papers.   
> Enjoy!
> 
> currently unbeta'd

**Chapter 14:**

“Morning, surprised to see you up and about this early,” Lestrade chuckled as John walked into the kitchen. “Thought you’d be tired given all the strenuous activity you and Sherlock got up to last night.” 

“Heard that didn’t you?” John scratched the back of his neck embarrassed. 

“Kinda hard not to what with the rooms being so close together,” Lestrade pointed out. He fixed John a cup of tea and set it in front of him. “Though, can’t really complain, lord knows what you and Sherlock have had to put up with, when me and Myc were newlyweds.” 

“Probably don’t mention that about Sherlock. He might make it a new challenge,” John pointed out. He spooned some sugar into his tea. “Where are the lovely Holmes anyway?” 

“In-laws took Micah out for a bit of a walk, Sherlock went into town to get something and Mycroft had to take a call,” Lestrade answered. “Sherlock asked me to hang around in case you got up before he came home.” 

John was a little disappointed he hadn’t woken up with Sherlock, their conversation from the night before was happy to play on repeat in the back of mind, each time filling his chest with warmth. Though he suppose he should’ve expected it, Sherlock always got restless after too much idleness and it had been a week since the last case, but then again John didn’t love him any less for it.

John winced a little and pressed a hand against his abdomen and rubbed a soothing circle. “Oi, relax in there little one. Goodness, you’re as antsy as your father.” 

“Have they started kicking yet?” Lestrade asked. His eyes strayed on John’s stomach for a brief minute before he picked up his own tea. 

“Still a little bit too early for that,” John answered. “I’ve felt a few little flutters’s here and there, probably just a bit of cramping. Gonna need help getting dressed pretty soon at the rate I keep growing.”  

“You know, me and Myc have been thinking about another baby,” Lestrade told him. “Might even give it another go.” 

“Really? Greg that’s wonderful,” John smiled. “Mycroft must be excited...he seemed a bit, well, upset when we guys first started trying.” 

Lestrade nodded. “He was, don’t think I’ve ever seen him quite so solemn, surrogacy was a bit of a blessing in disguise really. Micah’s looking like him more and more every day, but I know he still wants another that’s both of us.” 

“You’re a stronger man than I,” John chuckled as he picked up his tea. “I don’t know if I could handle it.” 

“It was...difficult,” Lestrade admitted. “Seeing someone else being able to give the one you love something we should be able to give, but Micah’s just perfect and I wouldn’t take it back for a second. We’ve been talking to a specialist though, and he seems hopeful about all of it. Just a couple round of shots, for both of us, and then we give it a go.” 

“Will you take desk duty then?” John asked. 

“Might just take full leave if we decide to go through with it,” Lestrade answered. “It’d be a nice weight off both of our shoulders not to have that added stress, and being home with Micah’s always an extra bonus.” 

John nodded in understanding. “I know Sherlock gets worried about me at the surgery, he’s become a bit of a germaphobe lately. I haven’t told Sherlock yet, but I’m going to be starting my leave in February instead of March, just gotta help Sarah pick out my replacement.” 

“I’m sure he’ll like that,” Lestrade nodded. “He worries about you. He always worried about you before, even when you two were on the case together, but you can see it now, and you know he’s getting a license so he can carry a gun? Overheard him talking about to Myc. Said he wanted to go about it the normal way. And then he asked me for proper shooting lessons.” 

“I know I talked about it with him,” John said. “I didn’t think he’d actually do it.” 

“Might have to actually get him a job with the force if he keeps going on like this,” Lestrade joked. “Be a shame if he started his own P.I company.” 

“And miss all the murder? Hardly,” Sherlock drawled as he walked into the kitchen. “I had hoped I’d be back before you were up.” He leaned down and kissed John’s cheek. 

He cheeks were a bit flushed from having been outside and there were a few snowflakes melting his in his leaving tiny droplets. 

“I think the baby was using my bladder as a bed,” John shrugged. “Otherwise I still would be asleep. Where’d you run off to anyway?” 

“Nowhere important,” Sherlock answered as he took off his coat. “Just needed to stretch my legs.” 

John could tell Sherlock was lying, you didn’t live with Sherlock Holmes and not pick up a few tricks, but John would let him have his little secret. Sherlock would tell him soon enough. 

* * *

“Sherlock...love, we’ve got to go downstairs.” 

“Later,” Sherlock pulled the blankets of his head. He body was finally starting to give into its insistent need for sleep on a regular basis and the idea of staying in bed all day was becoming quite nice.

“But you’ve got more presents to open,” John chuckled. “Besides, I’m very confident you have no idea what I got you this year.” 

Sherlock peeked out from his cocoon of blankets. “Are you now?”

John nodded. “Extremely, come prove me wrong?” 

“Well, if you insist,” Sherlock relented and John smiled as he stood up from the bed. 

Sherlock got out of bed and pulled on his dressing gown as he followed John out of their room and downstairs where Lestrade and Mycroft were sitting on the couch, Micah trying to make a break for the presents under the tree every so often, though Lestrade had a made a small barrier of pillows to keep him from getting to far. 

John went into the kitchen to get some coffee for Sherlock and tea for himself while Sherlock made his way to the couch opposite Mycroft and Lestrade. 

“Unc! Unc!” Micah squealed and made grabby hands at Sherlock. 

Sherlock picked up the small child and set him in his lap as he sat down. “Just think Micah, this time next year you’ll have a little cousin to run around with.” 

“I still remember your first Christmas,” Mycroft mused. “You were more inclined to play with the leftover wrapping paper then your actual toys.” 

“Play nice,” Lestrade gave Mycroft a small nudge and drank some of his own tea. 

“I seem to remember Myc trying to  _ eat _ the wrapping paper when he was Micah’s age,” Mrs. Holmes chuckled as she walked into the living room with a small tray of biscuits. 

Sherlock chuckled. “You always did have an appetite for the unusual Mycroft.”

“I wasn’t even a year old,” Mycroft replied in his defense. “At least I never tried to eat a crayon, and you were five.” 

“Boys,” Mr. Holmes said firmly. “Let’s make this the year we don’t resort to petty digs at each other.” 

“Sorry…” They both muttered. 

Sherlock broke off a small piece biscuit with a bit of raspberry filling for Micah and thanked John as he returned with their tea and coffee. He reluctantly gave his nephew back to Mycroft after another ten minutes and wrapped his arm around John. 

Mr. and Mrs. Holmes dolled out their presents to everyone first. A new planner for Mycroft with a few certificates for a little french bakery good for a year, a photo album of their wedding for Lestrade with the added Holmes touch. Toys for Micah (He was more interested in the boxes they came in) a new scarf of dark purple for Sherlock, and a small onesie made to look like a bumblebee, and a lovely little quilt John already knew would be the perfect thing to wrap their baby in once they were born. 

“The same one we used to wrap Sherlock in when he was just a babe,” Mrs. Holmes smiled at the memory. 

“It’s lovely,” John complimented. “Hard to imagine this one as a baby though.” 

“Mummy no, you promised,” Sherlock groaned as Mrs. Holmes eyes lit up at the exclamation. “Should’ve hidden those when I had the chance.” 

“Sherlock was such a beautiful baby, and all that hair,” Mrs. Holmes smiled as he handed John a photo album with Sherlock’s name written in the center in blue calligraphy. 

“Why am I not surprised you were born with full head of hair?” John smiled as he looked through the album. “Oh you were adorable Sherlock.” 

“What do you mean were?” Sherlock huffed. 

“As much fun as this is,” Mycroft said. “We’ve still got more presents to open and breakfast to eat.” 

“Oh don’t be such a stick in the mud Myc. I’ve got your album around here somewhere too,” Mrs. Holmes threatened. 

“Do ours next,” Sherlock said. He distracted John long enough to switch out the picture book for the quilt instead. Bit of a low move as John got a little misty-eyed when he remembered it used to be Sherlock’s but worth it if it meant John curled up against him more. 

For Mr and Mrs. Holmes, they had booked them a six and seven-day cruise to the destination of their choosing, and for Mycroft and Lestrade a three-night Tuscany tour of wine country with cooking classes for their upcoming anniversary. They had gotten Micah a few new stuffed animals and an assortment of picture books. He was still more interested in the packaging. 

“It seems great minds do think alike,” Mycroft said as he picked up an envelope and extend it to Sherlock. 

“You two didn’t have to get us anything,” John replied. “You’re already paying our medical fees.” 

“Believe me,” Lestrade smiled. “You’ll want it.”

“Thank you,” Sherlock said as he showed John the gift. 

It was a four day, three-night stay at a small bed and breakfast just outside of London, dated for a month after the birth of their baby. 

“Everything’s already taken care of, all you’ll need to do is pack your bags, and we’ll take care of the baby,” Mycroft added. 

“Sounds lovely,” John smiled. “Thank you. Both of you.” He made sure to tuck the information for the trip in with the quilt so they wouldn’t lose it. 

“Come on then dear, you can keep grandma and grandpa company in the kitchen while we make breakfast and we’ll let these gentleman open their gifts,” Mrs. Holmes said as picked Micah up. “You can even bring some wrapping paper with you.” 

Mr. Holmes pressed a finger to his lips in a shushing motion as he grabbed a small box from under the tree meant for Mrs. Holmes and followed her into the kitchen. 

“I think we’ll take ours upstairs, might try to sneak in another hour of sleep,” Lestrade said as he found the gifts he and Mycroft had picked up for each other. 

“Left alone,” Sherlock mused as he ran his fingers down John’s back. 

“Not going to happen,” John gave him a pointed look. “Your mother could walk in at any moment. Besides, you still need to figure out what I got for you.” He sat up more as Sherlock pouted but moved from his spot on the couch to get the presents left under the tree. 

He sat with his back against the armrest as Sherlock sat down with the gifts from John. One was a medium but thin sized box, all black and tied with a bow instead of wrapping paper with a small card tucked between. And small box about the size of Sherlock’s fist. 

“Open the card last,” John told him a little nervous. 

Sherlock raised a curious eyebrow and thoroughly examined the box. He gave it a small shake and frowned when nothing rattled around inside. John was pretty pleased, if a bit nervous, about how Sherlock would like the gift. 

Sherlock gave it one last examination before unlacing the bow and set the card aside for after and lifted the lid. He carefully parted the tissue paper and picked up the two large notebooks inside. One was bound together with thick black ribbon and the other bound with a deep burgundy color. The book itself was smoothed leather with music notes shaped along the opening with silver ink. The first was filled with blank pages of sheet music while the other was empty but filled with about twenty tags meant for each piece of music. 

“I thought, you might like something to keep your compositions in,” John said as Sherlock carefully opened each book. “So many have been lost or ruined because of coffee rings, or accidental tea spills…do you like them?” 

“I love them,” Sherlock smiled softly and traced some of the notes. 

“You can remove or the replace the ribbon as you see fit, I wasn’t sure what color you’d like so I just stuck with black and burgundy,” John told him. “You can open the card now…” 

“Oh,” Sherlock’s eyes brightened as he picked it up and pulled out the small card inside. “What’s this?” 

“I booked you a session or two in a recording studio. I’ve got an old army buddy and his daughter runs a studio. It’s nothing fancy mind you, but she works with classical musician’s and I thought you might like to use something other than your phone to record yourself...You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to,” John added the last part quickly and Sherlock looked shocked. 

“Of course I’m going to use it,” Sherlock told him. “I’m assuming she can put everything on CD’s?” 

John nodded. “They’re two sessions for about six hours, but you can call and break them up even.” 

“I may call and book more sessions,” Sherlock tucked the card back into its envelope. “I’ve quite a few selections I’d enjoy recording...and it’s a perfect gift for next year’s Christmas.” 

“Don’t forget the small one,” John reminded. 

It was anything special, just more Rosin for Sherlock’s bow but John knew he could do for some more and would always forget to buy some. 

“My gift seems a bit inferior now,” Sherlock admitted as he carefully put everything back into their boxes. 

John was careful about the wrapping paper, despite Sherlock just telling him to rip it off. There was a box slightly similar to Sherlock’s but this one wasn’t tied with a ribbon. He could tell right off the bat it was a photo album. The cover was a dark red, with a small spot for a medium-sized picture. 

He opened it and smiled seeing a small note taped to the inside of from cover. He carefully removed it and unfolded it while he turned to the next page in the book. 

_ John,  _

_ I shall simply say this,  _ _ You said yes…Never in my wildest dreams did I expect that to happen. Some days I admit, I must wake up and pinch myself the moment I see you lying in bed next to me. Reminding myself that you love me, that we love each other and love this baby that we have created together. Saying thank you seems so...dull and insufficient, so I will say this, I want to spend the rest of my life, however long, or however short that is, making sure you know how grateful I am for you, how much I love you and how excited I am to share in this new adventure for you. And, because we still have a few more months before it can fully begin, I’ve taken the liberty of placing all of our previous adventures  in this book.  _

_ Yours Forever _

_ Sherlock _

“You’re crying...Do you not like? I can get you something else if you don’t like it,” Sherlock told him. 

“Sherlock it’s…” John smiled as he ran his fingers over the picture of them during a case in New York. It was mid-summer and unbearably hot and humid to the point Sherlock had reluctantly worn a short sleeved button up shirt and slim back cargo pants. He’d ignored John’s attempts at putting sunscreen on him and ended the day sunburned. “It’s wonderful. I love it.” 

“But...you’re crying…” Sherlock reached out and wiped one of the tear tracks with his thumb. 

“Of course I’m crying,” John closed the album so he wouldn’t get tears on the pictures. He probably wouldn’t be able to look through it  _ without  _ crying if he was being honest. “I’m crying because I’m happy and this is beautiful, and I just, I love you so much.” 

“Oh, that’s...well, I um, I’ve one more,” Sherlock reached into the pocket of his dressing gown and as he moved to the floor and pulled out a small box. “I...had a whole speech prepared, but it’s currently gone out the window, and now my hands are sweating and-” 

“God yes,” John interrupted. 

Sherlock huffed out a laugh. “I’m supposed to ask you first.” 

“Sorry, sorry,” John wiped his eyes. “Go on then. Ask away.” 

“John, will you marry me?” Sherlock opened the box and John nodded. 

“Yeah, yes of course,” John smiled. 

Sherlock released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Really? I mean there was at least a ninety-eight percent chance you’d say yes, and-” 

John covered Sherlock’s mouth with his hand. “I, John H. Watson,” he let go of Sherlock’s mouth to cup his face and brought it closer so he could kiss his forehead. “Want to marry, you” he kissed both of Sherlock’s cheeks, “William Sherlock Scott Holmes. The most gorgeously brilliant man I know.” 

Sherlock fumbled a bit as he hurried to get the ring out of the box and slid it on John’s finger. “If you don’t like it, I can take it back and we can find something else...I know you’re not a flashy person but I thought it would like nice…” 

“I love it Sherlock,” John smiled as he looked at the ring. “And I love you.” He leaned in and gave him another kiss.

* * *

 

“Here we are, some nice eggnog for everybody. Non-alcoholic of course for those of the less brave nature, or expecting parents, on the left side and my own secret recipe on the right,” Mr. Holmes said as he set down the tray. 

John picked up from the left and settled back against Sherlock after he’d picked up one his father’s special recipe one’s and fixed the blanket that was tucked around them. 

“New recipe?” Sherlock asked after a generous sip. “Tastes different.” 

“You know the rules, whichever one you can figure it out doesn't have to clean up all the paper and trash from the presents,” Mr. Holmes smiled as he settled in next to his wife with his own cup. 

It was technically John’s first official Christmas with the Holmes family and his confusion must’ve shown on his face. 

“Ever since Mycroft and I were old enough, father made up a little game so we wouldn’t fight over who would have to clean up all the paper from the presents. Once we reached drinking age he started mixing just a bit of alcohol in order to make it more challenging.” 

“I win every year,” Mycroft smiled and made room for Lestrade as the man came back from putting Micah to bed. 

“Non-alcoholic on the left, alcoholic on the right,” John told him as he drank some of his own. 

Lestrade shot him a smile of thanks and grabbed one from the left. “One of us is going to need to be relatively sober in case Micah wakes up,” Lestrade explained at Mycroft’s curious gaze as he sat down. 

Mycroft drank some of his own eggnog and swirled the liquid around the cup. “Whole milk, vanilla, nutmeg...just a bit of sugar and bourbon.” 

“Close, but not quite right,” Mr. Holmes chuckled. “What about you Sherlock?” 

“Your palate must be losing its touch Mycroft. You’ve left two extra ingredients. It’s whole milk, vanilla, nutmeg,  _ cinnamon _ , bourbon, and rum. I’d say a nice dark rum.” 

“I’m surprised you managed to catch the cinnamon considering your little mishap,” Mycroft set his glass aside. 

“Mishap?” John asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“...I may have eaten a few mouthfuls of cinnamon when I was younger,” Sherlock answered. “I try to avoid it nowadays, but even so, I could taste it which means I win.” 

“Why on earth would you do that?” John asked. He was torn between laughing and comforting the other man at the embarrassed glint in his eyes. 

“Why does anyone do anything when they’re young?” Sherlock scoffed. 

John reached under the blanket and intertwined their fingers. He smiled as Sherlock ran his fingers over his engagement ring. 

They were  _ engaged.  _ They were going to be married. 

“I ate a spoonful of cinnamon as well when I was younger, Harry dared me to do it. Older siblings am I right?” 

“So, can we expect a nice spring wedding then?” Mrs. Holmes asked she drank some of her eggnog. “We could hold it in the garden when all the flowers are in bloom.” 

“Spring sounds nice,” John agreed. “Maybe after the baby’s born though. Don’t know that I’d be up for much by that time.” 

“You just leave it all to me dear,” Mrs. Holmes smiled. “I’ll take care of everything.” 

“Mummy…” Sherlock looked reluctant. “As wonderful as Mycroft and Greg’s wedding was beautifully done, we won’t be expecting the entirety of Scotland Yard. Something small and simple will be fine. Close family and friends only.” 

“You only get married once Sherlock,” Mrs. Holmes replied. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to reign it in if it gets too much,” Mr. Holmes chuckled as he gave his wife a fond smile. 

“In other words, prepare for a very large wedding,” Sherlock whispered as he kissed John’s temple. 

“As long as you’re there, I’m happy,” John told him. 


	15. Chapter 15:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has definitely been awhile since the last update. Part of it was some family things going on, and the other part was that I wrestled with this chapter for the better part of a couple weeks. Hopefully you all like :)

Chapter 15:

John was not a jealous man. He was secure enough with himself and great in the sack that he didn’t need to worry about his partner's attention straying. He also knew that there wasn’t a single person who could take Sherlock’s attention away from him. Except for The Woman, and Moriarty. But neither of those were sexual interests, as far as John knew, so he didn’t really have anything to worry about.

And they were engaged. _Engaged!_ Sherlock loved him enough to marry him...

But, being five months pregnant, meant his hormones did most of the thinking for him which is how he found himself hiding in their bedroom, cocooned in their comforter, with the detective on the other side of the door.

“John…” Sherlock sounded exasperated as he knocked for the one-hundredth time. “John, how was I supposed to know she was _flirting_ with me?”

Ah yes, the reason they wound up in this situation in the first place.

  _Eleven  Days Previous_

“Why didn’t you just pick Donavon to take over for you while you’re on leave, I know she hates me but at least I know her,” Sherlock crossed his arms over his chest.

“Wasn’t my idea,” Lestrade replied. “The Chief thought it’d look good and I couldn’t very well say no now could I? Besides, apparently, she’s a fan of yours.”

“Dull…” Sherlock sank back in his seat. “Can we go home?”

“Sherlock you agreed to meet her,” John answered. “We can go home after and you can shoot the wall to your heart's content.”

“Really?” Sherlock’s eyes brightened.

“No,” John answered.

Sherlock deflated. “Rude.”

Lestrade stood up at the knock on his office door and gave Sherlock a ‘behave’ look before opening the door and smiling at the woman on the other side. She was a bit taller than John with strawberry blonde hair, dark brown eyes, and lightly tanned skin. She was dressed in a fitted pantsuit, attention focused solely on Sherlock.

“Sherlock, John, this is DI Angela Monae,” Lestrade introduced. “This is Sherlock and John.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Holmes,” She smiled. “I love your blog.”

“Oh?” Sherlock raised an eyebrow as he stood.

“Oh yes, I really enjoyed reading about the case with the serial killer who based each murder off of a classical literature death,” she answered.

“Oh, er, that’s actually my blog,” John chuckled. “You’ll have to forgive me for not standing to meet you but well,” he patted his stomach with a smile. “Couple pounds of baby and all that.”

“Of course, I completely understand,” she nodded and turned her attention back to Sherlock. “Actually, while I was waiting, got a call in about a triple homicide across town, perhaps we could try out this new partnership, I’d love for you to take a look.”

Sherlock looked back at John.

“Go on,” John smiled. “You’ve been bouncing off the walls since the last one closed.”

“I’ll let you know when I’ve finished,” Sherlock promised as he walked over and gave John a chaste kiss. He turned back to DI Monae and motioned for her to lead. “After you.”

“...I don’t like her,” John declared once they were both gone.

“What?” Lestrade asked. “She seems nice.”

“She seems like so wants to take a bite out of my fiance. Bet it’s not even a triple homicide, probably just a dumb murder or something,” John scoffed.

Lestrade raised an eyebrow. “Sherlock finally starting to rub off on you?”

“Sorry...sorry,” John sighed. “Just, hormones probably...I should get home.”

“You want me to give you a lift?” Lestrade asked as John got to his feet.

“No, I’ll catch a cab,” John answered.

_Seven days previous_

“Looks like he had a seizure,” John said as he looked at the crime scene photos spread out on the coffee table. “Probably swallowed his tongue.”

“Angela thinks suffocation, I’m inclined to agree. There are no medical records indicating he was prone to seizures.”

_Angela._

John was really starting to hate that name.

“I didn’t realize you and DI Monae were on a first name basis,” John said as he sat back on the couch. “And didn’t realize she had a medical degree as well. Good for her.”

Sherlock looked over at John’s obvious sarcasm. “Are you feeling alright?”

_No, some bitch is trying to steal my fiance and he’s too socially inept to realize it._

“Slept wrong, couldn’t get comfortable,” John answered.

“Why didn’t you come get me then?” Sherlock frowned.

_Because you were on the phone with Angela,_ John huffed to himself. “You were very focused on that cold case last night. Didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Nonsense, cold cases aren’t going anywhere,” Sherlock told him. “And I could easily review it in my head...swallowed his tongue you say?”

“Yes…” John nodded.

“Oh, John as always your brilliance astounds me!” Sherlock grinned as he gave him a kiss. He pulled out his phone and cradle it between his ear and shoulder as he pulled on his coat. “Angela? I know who the killer is. Meet me at the Mother in law’s house in ten minutes.” He hung up and tied his scarf around his neck. “Don’t wait up,” He called over his shoulder.

_Four days previous_

“I think that’s very smart of you take to start your leave early,” DI Monae nodded. “Of course, when I had my twins I worked up until just about my last month, but we should all be aware of our limits, and at your age, I’m sure you’d want to save as much energy as possible.”

“I think it’s admirable,” Molly said as she glanced up from the Petri dishes she was working with. “More time to spend with Sherlock and get ready for the baby.”

John hoped Molly could feel the gratitude he felt for her at the moment. He could kiss her. Really.

“What’s this about spending more time with me?” Sherlock asked as he walked into the lab. He gave Molly back the keys to the morgue. “All the bodies have the same tattoo, same design.”

“John was just telling us how he’ll be starting his maternity leave early,” DI Monae smiled.

“You are?” Sherlock looked at John. “I thought you wanted to keep working until at least April.”

“I changed my mind, I'll be finished the second week of February. We’ve found a suitable temp for while I’m gone, and I’ve already started to switch over my patients,” John told him. “It was _supposed_ to be a surprise.”

“Oh dear, I hope I haven’t ruined anything,” DI Monae gave him an apologetic smile.

“That’s...that’s wonderful!” Sherlock grinned. “Oh there’s so much we can do with all that extra time! And mummy will be so excited, she’s really been hinting that she’d love for us to come to see her before she and father go on their cruise.”

John shot DI Monae a smug smile as Sherlock continued to rattle off all the things they could do together with the extra time.

John Watson: 1 Cop Bitch: 0

_Two Days Ago_

“I’m so sorry that I’m not there. I wouldn’t have skipped it if it wasn’t important,” Sherlock said over the phone. “But, it’s a level eight and I’m so close.”

“Really Sherlock, it’s,” John sighed and tried not to let his emotions get the best of him. “It’s alright. I understand. Honestly, I’m amazed that you’ve managed to make it to every appointment before.”

“But this one is _special,”_ Sherlock huffed. “I should be there…not...Brighton…”

John chuckled. “Really Sherlock, from what I’ve pieced together, and gotten from the news it’s a pretty interesting case. You can tell me all about it when you get home, and I’ll let you know how things go here.”

Sherlock sighed again. “Donavon is giving me looks again, so regrettably I must go. Love you.”

“Love you too. Be Careful,” John told him.

He hung up and tucked his phone back into his pocket as Dr. Wright walked into the room.

“Shall we get started?” She smiled.

_The Night Before_

“What do you mean you’re going to drinks with her?” John asked. “You never go out for drinks with anybody, I’ve to drag you there kicking and screaming.”

“You and Lestrade both told me to behave,” Sherlock answered as he finished buttoning up his shirt. “What was I supposed to do? Say no? She cornered me just as I’d come out of the loo.”

“Yes, you say no, and tell her you’ve plans with your fiance, the man who is currently carrying your baby,” John told him.

“Well I can’t cancel now,” Sherlock sighed. “It’ll be a couple hours at most. I’ll be back before you go to bed. I promise.”

John sighed. “Don’t wear that shirt..wear the blue one, it goes better.”

Sherlock changed shirts and pulled on his jacket. “When I get home, we’ll lounge on the couch and watch a few episodes of Doctor Who. I’ll even bring home ice cream.”

“Yeah?” John fiddled with the button on Sherlock’s jacket. “The one with the marshmallows and pieces of cone and caramel?”

“And the chocolate cookies with raspberry filling,” Sherlock titled his chin up and gave him a kiss. “No later than ten. Promise.”

John leaned up for another kiss and walked him to the door. “Love you.”

“I love you too,” Sherlock smiled.

John stared at the clock on the wall. Half past ten and he’d heard no hide or hair from Sherlock since the detective had arrived for ‘drinks’ with DI Monae. He ran his fingers over his stomach and stilled when he felt a small bit of pressure against where his hand had laid.

He felt another not two seconds later.

Kicks.

Their baby was kicking.

And Sherlock wasn’t there to feel it.

John grabbed his phone off of the coffee table and quickly pulled up Sherlock’s number and held the phone to his ear.

“ _Hello, you’ve reached Sherlock Holmes. If it’s urgent text me, if not leave a message and I’ll get to it at some point.”_

John’s heart sank as it went straight to voicemail. “Right...uh, it’s me, just letting you know I’m heading to bed now. Get home safe. I love you.”

John took a quick shower and pulled on a loose t-shirt and boxers before climbing into bed and falling into a fitful sleep.

_2 hours Ago_

There were a few things John noticed as he woke up. Sherlock, despite his freezing feet, gave off heat like a furnace. Sherlock was still clearly dressed in the clothes he’d left in last night, with an arm wrapped around John and his face pressed into the back of Johns' neck. The last thing John noticed, well not last, it was really the first because his stomach was churning and he could already feel the bile crawling up his throat.

“Sherlock, if you don’t let me go I’m going to vomit on you,” John croaked.

Sherlock automatically let go of John and after a small fight with the sheets, stumbled into the bathroom closing the door with more force than necessary.

“John? You alright?” Sherlock asked. He knocked on the door tentatively.

“I thought I told you not to wear that cologne…” John stood once he was sure he wasn’t going be sick again and flushed before turning to wash out his mouth. He covered his nose as he stepped into the bedroom and saw Sherlock sitting on the edge of the bed with his hands in his lap.

His curls were a disarray as if someone had been running their fingers through it and his shirt was rumbled with the sleeves rolled up the elbow.

“What time did you get home last night?” John asked.

“Two...I think,” Sherlock answered. “Angela had invited a few other’s from the Yard and it sort of turned into a thing-”

“You went to her house?” John interrupted.

“She thought it’d be a good idea if I sobered up a bit before I came home,” Sherlock replied.

“Of course she did,” John drawled. “Bet she gave you a tour right? Accidentally left a few of her things in the bedroom? On the floor maybe?”

Sherlock’s brow furrowed. “How…?”

“She’s trying to come onto you Sherlock,” John answered. “She wants to have sex with you. She has wanted to have sex with you the moment she saw you.”

“But...she’s married, she’s got kids, and she knows you and I are engaged and having a child,” Sherlock frowned.

John would find Sherlock’s faith in total monogamy and relationships like his parents endearing if his hormones hadn’t decided now was a good time for an argument.

“Well, that doesn’t seem to matter to her,” John pointed out. “She told you to wear that cologne because I wasn’t going to be there and she somehow found out about my little sensitivity to it.”

“It may have come up…” Sherlock nodded. “But don’t you think you’re overreacting? It was just drinks…”

“Out,” John pointed to the bedroom door.

“John-”

“Piece of advice, don’t tell a pregnant person they’re overreacting,” John interrupted. “Out.”

Sherlock sighed but did as told. “May I at least get a change of close so I can shower?”

John grabbed a few random articles of clothing and shoved them at the detective and closed the door. He closed the one leading to the bathroom as well and after a quick sheet change because the cologne was still not setting right him, curled up under the comforter. And cried.

_Present_

“John…”

There was shuffling on the other side of the door and an exhale, most likely Sherlock shifting positions. Had he been sitting in front of the door the whole time? John knew Sherlock knew the door wasn’t locked, but he was respecting John’s need for space to calm down and that was bringing John dangerously close to tears again.

“John...You were right…” Sherlock said after another pause. “I...well I won’t go into details, but you were right...and I’m so sorry if I made it seem like I was interested, I was just trying to be nice like I was told…”

John sniffed. “Well then stop being nice…be an arse. Be rude and inconsiderate and a prick and...and…”

John felt the bed dip and Sherlock gently prying the covers out of his hand so he could get in with him. He pulled John in close and wiped his eyes, even as fresh tears started to roll down his cheeks.

“Oh, John,” Sherlock rubbed his back.

“I don’t...even know why this is bothering me.” John pressed his face into Sherlock’s chest. “I...I know you’d never, but...I can’t stop it.”

“You’re right. I would _neve_ r stray away from you John. I love _you_. I want to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you and if other people can’t seem to get that through their heads then they’re not worth my time,” Sherlock told him. “I only have eyes for you, John. You’re the only one I want to have kids with and the only one I want to marry and the only one I want to have sex with. No one else will ever compare to you. Especially not DI Monroe.”

John laughed a little. “It’s Monae…”

“See? She’s of so little interest to me I’ve already forgotten her name,” Sherlock told him. “In fact...maybe I should take a break as well.”

“A break?” John asked. “From what?”

“Scotland Yard,” Sherlock answered as if he was the most obvious thing in the world. “Stay home with you...make sure you know how much I love you every day. Lestrade’s already given me a couple dozen cold cases, and I’m sure Mycroft’s got a few things lying around to keep me from driving you up the wall...and we could just...be together…” he blushed at the end.

“Sherlock…” John wasn’t sure how to take that.

On the one hand having Sherlock all to himself for the next fivish months made John feel all warm and tingly inside, but on the other hand, he _knew_ Sherlock. He knew the other man would go stir crazy after a least a week with nothing to stimulate him.

“Are...are you sure that’s what you want?” John asked. “I mean, I love the idea of us spending that time together...but won’t you get bored?”

“Bored? How can I be bored when I’ve got the two of you?” Sherlock asked as he reached down to cup John’s abdomen. “John, when I found out that you decided to take your leave early, the first thing I thought wasn’t how long until the next case, but how we’ll spend these next few months together...getting ready for the arrival of our baby.”

It was that exact moment John felt another kick, and judging by the way Sherlock’s eyes had widened he’d felt it too.

“Oh...hello,” Sherlock breathed.

He shifted so his face was level with John’s stomach. He rucked up John’s t-shirt and placed his hands on either side. Another kick came a couple moments later, near where Sherlock’s left hand was placed.

“When did this start?” Sherlock asked.

“Couple days,” John answered. “One he started...he hasn’t really stopped.”

“He…?” Sherlock’s eyes widened. “We’re having a boy?”

John nodded and smiled. He reached behind Sherlock to get the sonogram photo he’d tucked into the book he was reading and gave it to Sherlock.

“There are his fingers, and his toes...and Sherlock?” John reached up and cupped Sherlock’s cheek. “Love what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m just...we’re having a boy,” Sherlock answered as he smiled at John. He ran a finger over the photo. “I can’t believe I missed this...you must think the worst of me.”

“I could never think the worst of you Sherlock,” John smiled. “Actually...I was a little happy you had a case for that appointment. I...wanted to surprise you.”

“I’m sure it would’ve been a wonderful surprise,” Sherlock smiled and looked down at another kick. “He’s a strong one isn’t he?”

“I almost left you a message when he started, well, I did leave you a message but I left out the kicking part,” John told him.

“What message?” Sherlock asked. “The only messages I got were from Lestrade, I didn’t get any from you and I had my phone on the table the whole time.”

“Really? Your phone went straight to voicemail,” John replied. “Sherlock?” John frowned as the detective suddenly sat up and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Sherlock?”

“What time did you call me?” Sherlock asked.

“I don’t know...ten thirty or so?” John answered. “Why?”

“If I remember correctly, I went to the bathroom about that time and left my phone on the table,” Sherlock answered. “I would prefer not to imply anything, but I believe DI Monae saw you were calling, sent it to voicemail and then deleted the message.”

“...How did she guess your passcode?” John frowned.

“I may have temporarily turned off the passcode when I got to the bar in case I had had too much and needed to either call you or a cab,” Sherlock answered. “Rest assured, she will not get away with this.”

“Sherlock maybe we should just leave it be,” John told him.

“Sorry, on the phone,” Sherlock tossed John a not so apologetic look as he walked backward out of the bedroom.

Sherlock returned twenty minutes later just as John was about to doze off and set his phone as he got back into bed.

“Well?” John asked.

“I simply told DI Monae I won’t be taking any cases with Scotland Yard for the next few months, and that it is her best interest not to contact me directly. Then I called her husband, lovely man by the way, and told him what his wife’s been up to,” Sherlock answered.

“That wasn’t very nice…” John pointed out, though he couldn’t stop the small smile even if he wanted to.

“I think in this case, we can both agree it was the _nicest_ thing I could’ve done,” Sherlock replied.

“You’re not wrong,” John had to agree.

“...Makes you wonder though,” Sherlock mused.

John raised an eyebrow.

“If this happened because she was already a fan, and I was _nice,_ what do you think would happen if I was nice to other people?” Sherlock asked.

“I’d make you get Property of John H. Watson on your chest,” John answered simply.

“I didn’t realize I belonged to you,” Sherlock reached down to take his hand.

“Course you do,” John replied. “You belong to me and I belong to you…”

Sherlock gave him a soft smile and intertwined their fingers. “Absolutely right...I’d be lost without my blogger.”

John looked down and chuckled at another strong kick. “Guess he doesn’t want to be left out either.”

Sherlock leaned down and pressed a kiss to his stomach. “I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure the two of you will always know how much I love you and that I will never leave you. This is a promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S sorry if this chapter was a bit choppy!


End file.
